


Golden

by JeanJacquesFrancois



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-19
Updated: 2016-08-16
Packaged: 2017-11-29 19:21:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 148
Words: 518,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/690532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JeanJacquesFrancois/pseuds/JeanJacquesFrancois
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Renly and Loras' story. From the very beginning to the bitter end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

For once the stormlands were not living up to their name. The sun was out and only a light breeze swept through the usually tumultuous Shipbreaker Bay, so named for the numerous ships that had perished in its waters. Renly had taken advantage of the uncharacteristically gentle weather and was sitting upon one of the many rocks that overlooked the bay, watching the water lap at the stony shore. Not that he minded the storms; there was something undeniably impressive about the crashing waves and pelting rain. Renly in fact loved nothing more than to sit at a window of Storm's End, watching the weather launch its brutal attack on the landscape, safe in the knowledge that Storm's End had stood against such weather for thousands of years.

Looking out over the bay, it was hard to imagine how the very same waves which were now rippling innocently in the sunshine had the power to tear apart ships and send them crashing onto the merciless rocks that lurked beneath the surface of the water. Renly's own parents had suffered that fate, their ship being ripped apart by a storm in this very bay, the safe walls of Storm's End within sight but out of reach. Renly laughed, the Gods had a cruel sense of humour it seemed. The bodies had never been found and Renly often wondered whether he should feel anything at the thought of his parents bodies trapped in their watery grave. But he felt nothing. He'd never known his parents. He had not even celebrated his first name day when the sea claimed them. Family was a curious thing. As Renly saw it, it seemed to mean everything and yet nothing at the same time. In his youth he remembered being chastised often for not behaving in a more proper fashion, he was a Baratheon, not a peasant. Yet despite this he saw very little of either of his brothers. Robert was too busy whoring and bankrupting the realm to care very much what his youngest brother got up to, and Stannis... Well Stannis hadn't been overly fond of visiting since Robert had given the Baratheon seat of Storm's End to Renly over him. Having visited Dragonstone once many years ago, Renly could understand Stannis' disappointment. Dragonstone had seemed to him merely a glorified rock, barren and cold. He laughed, it certainly suited Stannis' personality. But still, it wasn't his fault that Robert preferred him over Stannis. 

He recalled the day Stannis had left for Dragonstone well after the end of Robert's rebellion. He'd been but six. He remembered tears stinging his eyes as he'd watched the ships sail out of the bay for Dragonstone. Cortnay Penrose, the man charged with bringing Renly up after Stannis' departure, had held his hand as the ships disappeared over the horizon and told him not to be upset. Baratheons don't cry he had said, and besides your brother will come back to visit you. Renly liked to suppose that at least a small part of his sadness had been due to his brother's departure but mainly the tears had been for Maester Cressen, that smiley, wrinkled old man who had dressed his knees when he'd grazed them, and had played games with him whilst his brother was busy dealing with the siege of Storm's End. 

Renly could recall very little of the siege. He'd been only five when it had begun, not even old enough to understand the events going on around him. He had a vague memory though of the constant hunger that had come with the siege and of the sea of green and gold that had surrounded the castle walls. He had not understood when his brother had patiently tried to explain why there was no food, lifting him up so he could see the vast Tyrell host over the walls, feasting and laughing while they starved in their castle. Renly hadn't understood, it was obvious that the men feasting outside the walls had food to spare, he had been sure that if they asked politely, the men with the green and gold banners would happily share some. Stannis had just sighed, and swept off, handing Renly back to Maester Cressen. With hindsight, Renly realised that he had most likely had it comparably easy during the siege. Renly had had very little to eat that year, but he imagined Stannis had had even less. 

That was something Renly admired in Stannis. One of the only things, Renly thought, amused. He had rationed the supplies out fairly, to lord and the lowliest page alike. Renly could not imagine Robert starving with his troops as Stannis had done and he wondered if anyone would have held Storm's End as long as Stannis had. He kicked at a stone on the beach, imagining what would have happened to him if Storm's End had fallen. He shuddered slightly as he thought of the Targaryen children. Crown prince Aegon's head had been dashed against a wall and Princess Rhaenys dragged from underneath her fathers bed where she'd been hiding. All whilst their mother screamed. Renly wondered fleetingly where he would have hid if Storm's End had been sacked by Tyrell forces. Most likely he would have been captured and used as a bartering tool, but still.. the fate of the Targaryen children lingered uncomfortably in his mind. 

Renly went back to watching the waves as he tried to put the siege out of his mind. It was a distant memory now, far removed from Renly's current life. Looking back to Storm's End now, he laughed at how moments earlier he had thought of Storm's End falling. It was a castle like no other, a colossal structure that loomed over the bay, walls 100 feet high and 40 thick. It had never been breached. 

Feeling a sudden chill, Renly looked up at the sky, the sun was almost gone. It was late in the day and he ought to be heading back to the castle. He had thought, when first made lord of storm's end that he would be able to do as he pleased. He had quickly learnt otherwise. There was protocol to be followed, the family honour to be upheld, dull things to be discussed with Penrose concerning the running of the castle. He was sure his absence would have been noticed by now. In fact Penrose had specifically told him that very morning that a squire would be arriving for him in the afternoon, and that he should be there to welcome him. A Tyrell squire none the less, Mace Tyrell's third son he'd been told. Renly laughed, imagining his brother's expression at the turn of events. Once, Stannis had spat at Tyrell banners from the battlements of Storm's End, declaring that he would never yield. Now, Renly was about to invite one in to be his personal squire. 

It had been on the King's request that Renly had agreed to let the Tyrell boy squire for him. Supposedly, this arrangement was to help heal the rift between the Baratheons and the Reach. Renly sighed. He supposed he was little more than a political pawn in the grand scheme of things and wondered whether later in life he would be married off in another of the King's political manoeuvres. Not that he was naïve enough to think that it had been Robert himself who had arranged for the Tyrell boy to squire here though. Most likely it would have been Jon Arryn Renly reckoned. Stannis had told told him in his rare letters that it was Lord Arryn who ran the kingdom, or perhaps merely stopped it falling apart, whilst Robert drank and whored himself to an early grave. 

He wondered what the Tyrell boy would be like. He knew very little about the Tyrells and the Reach. He'd been told that the boy was about 10 and desired one day to be a knight. Renly laughed, didn't all boys of that age want to become great knights. Very few actually succeeded, but he imagined the Tyrell boy stood a fair chance, being the son of a lord. At least it would be company for him Renly mused. Storm's end could be rather dull, largely devoid of people any where near Renly's age. The Tyrell boy was still a child, but he would be better than nothing Renly guessed. Perhaps the boy would have a sense of humour. Renly laughed. the boy could hardly be worse than Stannis in that respect.

It was dark when Renly swept back into the castle. Penrose was waiting for him, a small black haired child clinging to his legs. A serving girl hurriedly tried to usher the child upstairs but Renly merely smiled. Edric Storm was the bastard son of Robert, conceived at the wedding of Stannis and Selyse, the child's mother none other than Delena Florent, a cousin of the bride. His household seemed to think that raising a bastard in his midst would offend him, but Renly rather liked the child. He was sturdy, black of hair, and the older members of Renly's household often remarked how similar he looked to both Robert and Renly at that age. Rumour had it that the child had been conceived in the marital bed itself and whilst Renly knew better than to take idle gossip at face value, he was still very curious. Surely even Robert wouldn't be that vulgar at his own brother's wedding he thought, and especially so shortly after his own. Renly had contemplated asking Stannis about it the last time he had visited, if only to see his brother's face at the vulgar question, but he'd managed to restrain himself. Maybe he would ask Robert next time he was in King's landing, he liked crude humour. Renly turned his attention back to Penrose. 

“My Lord” Penrose began “We expected you back hours ago We...” He looked like he was about to scold Renly but he stopped when Renly merely grinned at him. It was one of Renly''s talents, no one could manage to stay angry at him for long. 

“Has my presence been required?” Renly asked, hoping it wouldn't have been. 

“As matter of fact, it has, my lord. Your new squire arrived shortly after midday. We've been waiting for you to receive him” 

“Oh” Renly said “Well surely it's too late for me to see him now. You must have sent the boy to bed hours ago?” 

“We tried, but the boy is well... headstrong.” Penrose looked as if he was biting back a more scathing criticism. “He has refused to go to bed without being received by you first.” 

Renly laughed, at least it didn't sound like the boy was going to be dull. “Alright then, it can't do any harm to placate the boy. Bring him to my chambers, I will receive him there.” And with that Renly swept up the stairs to his quarters. 

Hardly any time at all had passed before a page was knocking on Renly's door, announcing Penrose's arrival with his new squire. 

Renly beckoned for them to come in and Penrose pushed the boy forward, rather roughly so Renly thought. He smiled as he looked him up and down; the boy was small and very slight and f he hadn't known otherwise, Renly might have thought that it was a maiden standing in front of him. His features were soft and pretty, unruly curls falling elegantly across his face. 

Renly grinned at him.

“So young Ser, you're to be my squire I understand” He looked at Penrose, eyes twinkling “Surely you're a bit too small to be a squire?” 

The boy frowned, pushed his curls out of his eyes, and glared defiantly at Renly, before speaking.

“I'm ten, the proper age for a squire” 

“You're to address Lord Renly as my lord in future” Penrose corrected quickly, but Renly waved the comment aside, laughing. 

“Why, you're outspoken for your age. Pray tell me what is your name?”

“Loras, of house Tyrell” the boy answered, still frowning.

“Well, young Loras of house Tyrell, as delighted as I am to have you as my squire, I think it's time you turned in for the night.” 

The boy shifted uncomfortably, seemingly not sure if Renly was mocking him, or merely being polite, but he allowed Penrose to usher him out of the room, where servants were waiting to take him to his chambers. 

Renly smiled as he got into bed, contemplating how the boy would do as a squire. He was certainly small, but seemed to make up for it in confidence and ambition Renly thought. He imagined that the boy would be sorely disappointed though when he realised that Renly would rather watch Tourneys than compete in them. He laughed, thinking himself of all the times Penrose had chastised him for failing to practise his own skills at arms. 

He was still smiling when he blew out the candle, enjoying the sound of the rain that had begun to fall outside as he drifted off to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy :)

Renly stood in the yard, people milling about around him as they fetched horses from the stables and carried tack to and fro. It was a fine day, Renly thought, the sun shining and the summer air sweet, despite the clouds looming on the horizon. Penrose had called him foolish, insisting that it was merely the calm before the storm and no day to go gallivanting around the countryside. _You'll all be soaked to the skin before you're even a mile out of Storm's End_ he had scoffed, his tone admonishing. Renly had laughed, waving away his concerns and Penrose had walked away, shaking his head in fond exasperation. He had learnt long ago not to bother arguing with Renly.

The truth of the matter was that Renly was terribly bored. He'd spent much of the last few days listening to the complaints of the smallfolk. There was a never ending stream of complaints this week it seemed, even more so than usual, That particular morning one man had droned on about a stolen horse for so long that Renly had almost offered him his own bloody horse just to shut him up. Instead he had forced himself to smile politely as the old man told his sorry tale, offering the man enough coin to buy himself a new horse to compensate for his loss. The old man had thanked him copiously, and praised his generosity, his weathered face breaking into a toothless grin. If only everyone was as easily pleased as Smallfolk Renly thought, chuckling.

Determined to enjoy himself this afternoon, he strolled over to Penrose who was stood conversing with Maester Jurne at the edge of the yard. They fell into silence as he approached and Renly laughed, knowing full well that Penrose and the maester had most likely been discussing the foolishness of Renly's determination to go for a ride on such a day.

“What is it you're going to do today my lord?” The kindly old Maester inquired as Renly joined them.

“Just a quick ride about the countryside” He looked at Penrose pointedly “After all it is such a lovely day.”

Penrose rolled his eyes and he saw Maester Jurne glance at the clouds that were moving in from the coast before nodding politely. Maester Jurne was a much more recent addition to Renly's household than Penrose who had been at Storm's End with him since before Renly could remember. As such Maester Jurne was much less willing to contradict Renly as Penrose did.

“You can't tell our lord anything” Penrose laughed, his beard wagging.

Renly laughed, “Well the sun is out, and besides I thought I better introduce my new squire to the beauty of the Stormlands before he starts to think that all I do day in day out is listen to smallfolk complain.”

“Well you're fighting a losing battle there!” Penrose smiled “I can't imagine that he'll find the Stormlands much to his taste at all, he's Highgarden through and through that one.”

“Well, it's worth a try.” Renly grinned. He had never been to Highgarden himself, but he had heard it was beautiful beyond compare. “The Stormlands do have a certain charm, hopefully he'll find them at least tolerable”

“Speaking of the boy, how's he doing as a squire my lord?” Maester Jurne asked “There was a lot of talk when he arrived that he was not really cut out for the job, he's such a small thing, almost delicate even.”

“I don't really know to be honest, I've been so busy these last few days, but he seems agreeable enough,” Renly turned to Penrose “You've seen more of the boy haven't you Penrose?”

“Of Loras?” Penrose frowned slightly before merely gesturing towards the yard, where Loras was trying, unsuccessfully so far, to tack up Renly's horse. Standing on his tip toes, he could just about reach to put the bridle over its head, but the horse, too smart for this, kept throwing its head up just out of Loras' reach.

“Ah yes.. I see what you mean...” Renly laughed “I should probably go and put him out of misery shouldn't I”

Walking back across the yard with Penrose, he watched the scene in front of him for a few moments, grinning as his squire attempted to wrestle with a horse much too large for him to really have any hope of tacking up while stood on the ground.

“Loras, would you like me to lift you up?” he teased “Or shall I find you a box?”

Loras turned and shot Renly a look of pure venom, before going back to his futile attempts to coax the horse to put its head down long enough to get a bridle on. Renly just laughed and asked one of his guards to help the boy. As entertaining as this was, Renly thought they should get moving, or else he would be forced to eat his words concerning the good weather. He didn’t think he could bear the look on Pernrose's face if it did in fact rain so soon after setting off.

He turned back to Penrose, still chuckling at how stubborn his new squire appeared to be. “You know Penrose, I do believe the boy is going to be very entertaining”

Penrose sighed “You know Renly... Its hard to tell who's worse. The Tyrell boy as a squire, or you as his master”

...........................................................

 

It was raining lightly when the party finally set off, and Renly refused to look Penrose in the eye as they made their way out of Storm's End, knowing that the older man would be relishing the fact that he'd been right and Renly wrong.

Instead he turned his attention to his new squire who was riding beside him on the dappled grey mare he'd come from Highgarden on. Indeed, he was a slip of a thing really and Renly could see why many seemed to doubt that he'd be up to squiring. Renly himself however was inclined to disagree. Watching him ride next to him, it was clear that the boy was more than comfortable on a horse, and had as good a seat as anyone Renly mused, especially for one so young. He might do well as a squire yet.

He turned to address the boy. “So, Loras, how do you find the Storm Lands? Do they please you?”

“They have a certain charm” he agreed politely. His expression said otherwise. Renly smiled, he got the impression that the boy was distinctly underwhelmed by the rather barren countryside.

Renly merely laughed, shaking his head. The Tyrell boy was a poor liar it seemed, and he was taken in by none of Loras's false praise for the Stormlands. No mind Renly mused, he would learn quickly enough. After all, the boy was related to Olenna Redwyne and from what Renly had heard about the so called Queen of Thorns, she was the master of such subtleties.

The storm was fully upon them by the time they returned, the rain launching its brutal attack on the landscape and thunder rumbling in the distance. Indeed as Penrose had predicted, they were all soaked to the skin. The man himself came to meet them at the gates, and although he didn't say anything, Renly saw the twinkle in his eye as he took in Renly's drenched state.

Renly laughed and pushed his wet hair out of his eyes; it seemed he would have to concede defeat for once “It seems you were right about the storm!” he said cheerfully to Penrose as he dismounted. “Wouldn't you say though that there's something rather exhilarating about riding in the rain?”

“If you say so my lord” Penrose smiled, eyes still twinkling as he took Renly's horse and led it to the stables, presumably to save his squire from the challenge of trying to untack it. “Go on, you should all change out of those wet clothes before you catch your deaths.”

Renly had thanked him and they headed inside into the warmth of Storm's End.

….............................................................

You'd have thought he had beaten the child from how the women of Storm's End were fussing over him Renly thought. _How could you my lord?_ Brella had scolded _Taking the poor thing out in weather like this?_ Renly had sighed. Brella had run his household since he was a child, and still treated him like one it seemed. He wondered if he ought to feel guilty about letting the boy get soaked, but Loras seemed sturdy enough despite his size. The rain was hardly going to harm him Renly thought, and if it did, Storm's End was hardly the place for him.

Still he could see why the women seemed to adore the boy, he certainly was a remarkably attractive child. Even when wet, his hair still fell in soft curls around his face and his eyes were large and bright, the colour of molten gold. Renly wondered what he'd look like when he matured, he could hardly retain those feminine, almost angelic features forever. He suspected though that he'd always be rather soft looking.

A deceptive look he reckoned, glancing at the boy who was still being fussed over by the women. He clearly wasn't enjoying the attention, frowning slightly as the women rubbed his hair dry, and Renly suspected he didn't much like being treated like a child. That made two of them Renly mused, laughing.

He left them to it and went to change out of his wet clothes himself, before sitting down to compose a letter to Robert. He wondered why he bothered to be honest, he had very little to say to his eldest brother and Robert replied but rarely. Often Renly doubted whether the King even read his letters, not that Renly particularly cared. Still, Stannis insisted that Renly at least make the effort and so Renly sighed, and put pen to paper, hoping that inspiration would strike him as to what to write.

He'd only got as far as describing the weather when Renly lost interest. _It was stormy in the Stormlands..._ Renly may as well have informed Robert that Dorne was hot or that it was cold beyond the wall. He put down his quill and instead went to sit by the window. The storm was still raging outside, every now and then a flash of lightning would illuminate the rocky coast below, casting fleeting twisted shadows over the landscape.

He wondered for a moment whether his squire was frightened. He doubted it he thought, he seemed a fearless sort despite his stature. He was an intriguing boy Renly mused, seemingly eager to learn, but more stubborn than even Stannis and Robert combined. He suspected he would be an entertaining addition to his household, even if he only served to drive Penrose up the wall with his stubbornness.

Renly laughed, only time would tell on that front.


	3. Chapter 3

Loras proved his critics wrong very quickly it seemed. Renly had watched them practice in the yard earlier and the older squires who had doubted him had rapidly been forced to eat their words, paying the price for underestimating him as the smaller boy rained down blows on them. The master at arms stood by, watching them all intently, shouting out criticism every now and then. He was pleased with Loras Renly could tell, though his words betrayed none of his praise.

Renly had to admit that he too had been rather surprised at just how well the boy seemed to handle a blade. He was impossibly light on his feet, dodging each blow that was thrown at him with ease. Renly smiled, his current opponent would have been dead several times over had the boys been fighting with real steel. Highgarden had taught him well it seemed.

“You fought well” He told him after they were finished for the morning.

“I know my lord” Loras said simply, pushing his hair out of his eyes.

Renly had to laugh, it seemed this one didn't know the meaning of modesty quite yet. Perhaps he never would Renly mused, Tyrells were a proud lot, not overly known for their humility and Renly smiled as he remembered some of the things Stannis had said about the Tyrells during the siege... none of his remarks had been remotely favourable. Still, Renly reckoned he could definitely grow fond of this particular Tyrell, he seemed to have a lot of spirit.

“Come Loras, I'll show you properly around the castle” He motioned for the boy to follow him “One has quite an extraordinary view from the top.”

Loras followed him obligingly as Renly led him up the stone steps that led to the battlements. It was a long climb and both were slightly out of breath by the time they reached the top, the steps finally coming to an end after what seemed like an eternity. It was a climb Renly did rather often, finding the view rather worth the effort of getting oneself up there. The Stormlands stretched below to the west, and the mountains to the South, the Prince's Pass winding up through them on it's way to Dorne. But it was the view to the East that Renly loved best. Whether it was calm or stormy, the sea was a beautiful thing to behold, and Renly never tired of watching the waves crash against the walls some 150 feet below them.

“That's Tarth there” he said pointing out the island that lay to the North East. “The seat of Lord Selwyn, one of my bannermen.”

Loras nodded eagerly “Their sigil is made up of suns and moons; is that right my lord?”

“Indeed” Renly smiled. The boy was sharp, Maester Jurne had evidently wasted no time teaching the boy the noble families of the Stormlands.

“Yes, it's a quartered sigil with suns on rose, and crescent moons on blue.” He looked away from Tarth and gestured East “And that of course is the Narrow Sea. Some say that you can see all the way to Essos on a particularly clear day.”

“And can you my lord?”

“I doubt it, at least I never have.” Renly smiled, remembering how excited he'd been when one of the guards had first told him that. He'd climbed up every day for the better part of six months, sure every time that today was the day. He doubted now that it was possible, the Narrow Sea wasn't quite narrow enough it seemed.

“That's a shame my lord, I would very much like to see Essos” he leaned over the battlements, as if it might by some stroke of luck be possible today.

“Careful there Loras” Renly warned “It's a long fall down!”

Loras peered over the edge, but seemed to be rather unfazed by 150 foot drop below him. “Could you survive a fall from this height my lord?”

“I wouldn't try if that's what you're thinking!” He put a hand on the boy's just in case he was getting ideas “Perhaps if you were very lucky you might live, it would depend on how you hit the water I guess. I remember I used to sit with my legs over the edge when I was younger. My brother was furious when he caught me, told me I was the most foolish boy he'd ever known!” Renly laughed, remembering how angry his Stannis had been.

“The King?” The boys face had lit up.

“No not Robert” Renly said laughing “Stannis, my other brother. A very big difference there! Robert has never lived here in my lifetime, he was sent to foster at the Eyrie shortly after I was born.”

“Like me here my lord?”

“Yes I guess the situation is not dissimilar” Renly smiled. Eddard Stark and Robert had become firm friends together at the Eyrie, and their friendship had held the seven kingdoms together. He glanced down at the young boy next to him, who was still leaning rather precariously over the edge. Perhaps this boy would one day be as good a friend to him as Ned Stark was to Robert.

“Was Lord Stannis sent to foster too my lord?” the boy's voice brought him out of his thoughts.

“No, he wasn't. After my parents died, Stannis stayed here to look after me. And when Robert became King, he became the Lord of Dragonstone.” Renly sighed, knowing how slighted Stannis had felt when Renly was named the lord of Storm's End over him.

“They say Lord Stannis has a will of iron in the Reach my lord”

“I bet they do” Renly grinned, he doubted Mace Tyrell was particularly fond of Stannis and his iron will. “He's a good solider no doubt, but not the most personable of fellows! I dare say you'll meet him someday.”

“Will I get to meet your other brother too my lord?”

Renly laughed, the boy seemed rather in awe of his eldest brother. He suspected he would be sorely disappointed when he finally did meet him. Young boys were often told stories of Robert's ferocious strength, and how he'd swung his war hammer valiantly at the Trident, cutting men down in their dozens. The last time Renly had seen Robert however, he had seemed much less a warrior, and much more a fat man who took little interest in anything but wine and whores.

“I dare say you will some day. Though my brothers and I are not as close as we could be.”

The boy looked at him, his face puzzled. Renly smiled, the boy had a lot to learn about Baratheons it seemed.

“I guess you and your siblings are close then?”

Loras nodded, his eyes lighting up.

“You should tell me about them” Renly suggested, leaning back against the battlements. It seemed that all the other great houses had closer family bonds than the Baratheons. Brandon Stark had ridden for Kings Landing without a second thought when he'd heard of how his sister had been stolen from him, calling for Rhaegar to come out and die. It had cost him his life. And Ned Stark had gone to war for the same reason; he'd raised all the banners of the North to exact justice for his brother and father's deaths and to rescue his sister. Renly sighed, knowing how that particular story ended. Likewise, the fury of the Martells was legendary following the brutal rape and murder of Elia and her children in the sack of King's Landing. They said in fact that Prince Oberyn only lived to exact his revenge. The Tullys of course had their _family, duty, honour_ and even the Lannisters seemed to set more in store by family than the Baratheons. Say what you like about the Lannisters Renly thought, you couldn't deny that they looked after their own.

He sighed. Robert had gone to war for Lyanna Stark, and yet somehow Renly doubted that he'd have done the same for either him or Stannis. And not for the first time Renly wondered how their lives might have been different had their parents lived.

“Well Willas is my eldest brother” Loras was saying “He's going to be riding in his first Tourney soon” He paused, grinning as if riding in a Tourney was the greatest thing he could possibly envision. Looking at his expression, it probably was Renly reckoned, the boy seemed to have the gallant ideologies that were typical of the Reach. It was all Tourneys and knights in shining armour in the Reach.

“....and then there's Garlan, he's ten and five and already knighted” He continued, pride filling his voice “He's one of the best swordsmen I've ever seen. The master at arms says that he might even stand a chance against Jaime Lannister...”

Renly laughed, pushing his hair out of his eyes as the boy continued to list his brother's accomplishments. It was rather endearing Renly thought, the way that he was so evidently proud of his family. He wondered if he himself would be able to talk at length about Robert and Stannis' achievements if he really pushed himself. Probably, he mused, if he really had to. His brothers did have some redeeming qualities after all. Both were good warriors and had racked up an impressive number of victories between them. Besides, Robert could drink anyone and everyone under the table. Surely that had to count for something.

“....and then there's my sister, Margaery” He paused, and an adoring look came into his eyes. He looked far away for a moment, and Renly suspected his thoughts were back in Highgarden.

“It sounds like she means a lot to you” Renly said, smiling “You'll have to introduce me sometime.”


	4. Chapter 4

Renly doubted even the Stormlands had seen such a storm before. It had raged for days, the rain lashing at the windows so fiercely that Renly feared the glass might crack. Thunder rumbled constantly overhead, echoing through the castle, a melancholic groan which seemed to reverberate from the very walls themselves. The waves completed the storm's song, crashing against the rocks below as if keeping time with some invisible drummer.

Renly glanced out of the window as lightning streaked through the sky, revealing the ominous clouds that loomed above them for a fleeting moment before plunging the landscape back into darkness. Renly sighed, and picked up the book that was lying on the table, a voluminous old tome that Maester Jurne had said all lords should read, even ones who were only ten and four. He was just opening it to the first dusty page when he was interrupted.

“I thought you said books were for Maesters?”

Renly laughed and looked over to where the younger boy was sitting, perched on the window ledge watching the rivulets of water stream down the pane of glass.

“I did Loras” Renly said, grinning “And this particular one is so dull I'm beginning to wish I'd taken my own advice!”

Loras smiled and turned back to watching the storm's onslaught, tapping his fingers absent-mindedly against the stone of the window ledge. Renly sighed, the boy was restless, that much was clear. He resented being cooped up indoors and it was making him agitated.

Renly turned back to his book and tried to focus on the histories that were written in its dusty pages, wisdoms passed down from years ago. He didn't doubt that it was invaluable knowledge he was reading, but he did wonder how the author had managed to make it quite so dull. He'd only managed a few pages when his concentration was broken yet again.

“Renly?”

“Mmmhmm” Renly mumbled, not looking up from his page. If he gave up now, he may as well admit that this book was never going to get read.

“Do you think it would be so terrible if we went outside for a bit?”

“It's probably not the most sensible idea. It's like the end of the world out there” he said, gesturing in the rough direction of the window as he tried to focus on his book.

A clap of thunder resounded through the room yet again as if to illustrate Renly's point.

“But I'm just so bored.” There was a pleading edge to his voice that tugged at Renly's heartstrings.

“They'd never let you” Renly sighed, refusing to look up from his book. To tell the truth he wasn't sure who _they_ was, but venturing outside in this weather was foolish. Venturing outside voluntarily was just plain idiotic. He was sure whoever the wise author of this bloody book would agree. He seemed to have reached a particularly enlightening passage. _Many Lords great and small alike often forget one very important thing..._ the author was insisting.

“But who would stop me?” Loras pressed.

“Penrose” Renly said shortly, continuing reading. _Many Lords great and small alike often forget one very important thing. That even when one is..._

Loras snorted “Penrose wouldn't catch me, he can't run fast enough.”

“Well me then.”

“You couldn't catch me either.”

“Excuse me?” Renly slammed the book down on the table and turned to look at Loras, grinning and looking him up and down cynically. “I most definitely could catch you. You're about half my height!”

“Prove it then.” and with that he bounded out of the room, the door swinging shut after him.

Renly stared after him, he had half a mind to let him go. Loras would no doubt come crawling back after a few minutes, soaked to the skin and shivering from the cold. He was hardly dressed for the weather, wearing only a flimsy shirt and breeches that would offer no protection from the onslaught outside. Still, Loras' words hung heavily in the air. The challenge was out there, and Renly couldn't refuse it.

Knowing he would regret it, he leapt up and raced after him. He guessed he never would know what many lords great and small alike always forgot.

By the time Renly got out into the corridor, Loras was already starting up the steps. Renly grinned, and pursued him. This would work in his favour he reckoned, the steps up to the battlements were a gruelling climb, especially at a run, and he doubted Loras had quite as much stamina as he did.

Loras impressed him however, his legs carrying him much faster up the steps than Renly would have expected. Still, by the time that the steps finally levelled out, Renly had all but closed the distance between them, Loras barely a foot in front of him.

He was just about to reach out and grab him when Loras ground to a halt, leaning back against the battlements.

Catching his breath for a moment, he turned round to Renly and smirked. “See I told you that you couldn't catch me”

Renly snorted “Well you had a good two hundred yard start!” He retaliated “And besides, the end point was never agreed on. You seem to have chosen a very convenient place to stop. As in just as I was about to catch you.”

Loras just shrugged nonchalantly, and grinned.

Renly rolled his eyes but joined Loras in leaning against the battlements, panting heavily, his cheeks flushed. The rain soaking through his clothes was almost a relief, and he turned his face up to the sky, relishing the way the water was cool against his skin. The clouds had parted slightly it seemed, and the battlements loomed in front of them, casting shadows in the dim moonlight. Renly shuddered slightly as he looked out to the sea, which was all but completely shrouded in darkness.

 He turned to Loras and saw that the younger boy was equally soaked, his wet shirt plastered against his skin. He looked almost wild for a moment, his eyes shinning in the moonlight and the wind whipping up his curls into a frenzy.

Renly sighed and sunk down, leaning back against the wall and stretching his aching legs out in front of him. The stone was cold through his clothes and the water seeped through the thin material, chilling his skin. Renly decided he didn't care. He was already wet right through as it was.

Loras sat down next to him and they sat in a comfortable silence for a while as they looked out to sea, the unforgiving wind whipping their faces and sending icy rivulets of water streaming down their necks. Renly was suddenly no longer glad of the rain, his face was no longer flushed and the water seeping through his clothes was beginning to feel icy against his skin.

Shivering suddenly, he stood and turned to Loras “Come on, even you must admit that it's time to go back inside now.”

Loras grinned as if he thought otherwise, but allowed Renly to pull him to his feet. “Race me back down?”

Renly frowned “Fine, but you're not getting a head start this time.”

Loras was off again before Renly had even finished the sentence, half running and half falling down the steps, skipping two or three at a time. Renly raced after him, rather anxious that Loras was going to slip. Miraculously though, he made it to the bottom still ahead of Renly, his footing surer than he had given him credit for. Renly followed close at his heels, gaining on him by the second, Renly's longer legs giving him the advantage on the flat.

He had almost managed to grab him when Loras did fall, his feet slipping from underneath him as he skidded uncharacteristically gracelessly around the corner and to their shock, straight into Penrose's path.

Renly saw the collision before it happened. Loras hit Penrose full on, his flailing limbs knocking Penrose's legs from underneath him and sending them both crashing down on to the floor.

Renly did his best to stop, he really did. Yet his feet only skidded desperately on the wet stone floor as he too collided into Penrose, his legs tangling with Loras' own as they lay on the floor in a helpless heap, Renly's weight pinning Loras to the floor.

Penrose disentangled himself with as much dignity as possible, standing over them as both Renly and Loras burst into laughter, the noise ringing loudly through the corridor. Renly couldn't help himself, finding something inexplicably funny about his current situation. When Loras had arrived from Highgarden, he hadn't quite anticipated them both lying in a sodden heap in the corridor, water pooling around them.

He glanced up at Penrose when he finally managed to stop laughing and was pleased to see that Penrose was smiling, despite the fact that he was shaking his head despairingly.

“Er sorry about that Penrose” Renly said, smiling sheepishly at the older man as he picked himself up and pulled Loras to his feet.

“What in the seven hells were you doing!?” Penrose asked incredulously, chuckling slightly. He glanced down at the puddle of water on the floor “Don't tell me that you've been outside in this weather?!”

Renly continued to grin sheepishly at him “Well it wasn't _my_ idea” he said, looking pointedly at Loras who had thus far remained silent.

Loras just shrugged, shooting Renly a venomous look when he thought Penrose wasn't looking.

Penrose shook his head in exasperation “Well I'll get the servants to prepare you hot baths, you'll catch your deaths otherwise.” He paused “Especially that little thing there” he added, grinning wickedly at Loras.

Renly laughed, certain that he'd said it just to wind Loras up. He had certainly succeeded, Loras was flashing daggers at Penrose now, clearly not impressed.

Renly grinned, pushing his wet hair out of his eyes and dusting himself off as he glanced down at his and Loras' drenched state. Loras was shivering next to him, water dripping from his curls into his eyes.

“That is probably for the best Penrose. We wouldn't want this young thing catching a chill would we!”


	5. Chapter 5

Renly had known at the time that he'd regret following Loras outside in such weather. He'd known even as they'd sat on the battlements braving the pelting rain and the icy wind that it was not the most sensible idea.

And sure enough, several days after their rather foolish excursion, Renly awoke feeling terrible, his head pounding and his throat on fire.

Groaning, Renly rolled over, wondering if he could bring himself to get out of bed. He ached all over and he felt exhausted, despite having turned in relatively early the night before. He knew he ought to get up, there were things to be done and people to see. There always were. Today, however, Renly found he didn't particularly care. Wincing at the sunlight that was streaming through the window, he pulled the covers up over his head with the thought of getting back to sleep. His Lordship duties could wait.

He was rudely awakened several hours later by someone prodding him not so gently.

Renly groaned and opened his eyes reluctantly. His squire's face gradually came into focus, unruly curls falling over his eyes as ever.

“Are you alright?” he was asking, leaning over Renly and peering down at him.

“I've felt better,” Renly muttered. “In fact forget that, I've never felt worse. My head feels like someone is attacking it with a hammer, and I ache all over.”

“Should I tell Penrose that you wont be meeting with him this morning then?”

Renly nodded wearily, ignoring the pain in his head. Nearly every morning he and Penrose would sit down together to discuss the running of Storm's End. Renly had tried to delegate as much of the day to day running of the castle to the more senior members of his household, yet still there seemed to be urgent business to deal with most mornings. It seemed, however, that Penrose would have to manage on his own today.

Loras did as he was bid, but returned shortly with Maester Jurne in tow, the kindly old Maester smiling at Renly as he leant down to have a look at him.

“You have a fever my lord” He said gently, pressing a cool hand against Renly's forehead. “This is why I always recommend staying indoors during the sort of weather we saw the other day.”

Renly merely groaned. He could do without the lectures today. His was coming over all shivery and his head still throbbed painfully. Glancing at Loras though, he was glad to see that the boy had the grace to at least look a little guilty. He was standing behind Maester Jurne, unusually quiet and looking down at the floor. Good, Renly thought rather bitterly. This was all his fault after all. He'd been all for staying indoors.

“All I can recommend is rest, my lord,” Maester Jurne sighed, removing his hand from Renly's forehead “You'll be as right as rain in no time.”

An ironic choice of words, Renly thought cynically, considering that it was the rain that had made him feel like this in the first place. He cursed the Maester inwardly for being utterly useless. _Rest_ , he had instructed. Loras could have told him as much.

Loras stayed even when Maester Jurne took his leave, sitting himself down on the end of Renly's bed like he often did in the evenings when he and Renly would sit in his chambers if they had nothing better to do. Renly contemplated telling him to leave, it was his fault after all that he was feeling like this. But in the end he desisted, regardless of the blame that he felt Loras deserved, he had to admit that he would be grateful for his company.

“Can I get you anything, my lord?” he asked, unusually polite.

The words sounded somehow strange and yet Renly couldn't think why. It was only when Loras repeated himself, thinking Renly hadn't heard, that he put his finger on it. Renly hadn't noticed that sometime in the past few months Loras had stopped addressing him formally. Yet now that he had reverted back to such a style of address, the words sounded odd, unnatural even.

“No I'm fine Loras” Renly sighed, sitting up and propping himself up on pillows

“Penrose suggested that I bring you some wine. Would that please you?”

“Does he think wine will make me feel any better?” Renly said scathingly. If anything, he imagined that wine would only exacerbate the pain in his head.

“No. But he said it might make you complain less.”

Renly had to laugh; that sounded like Penrose through and through. The accusation was unfair though he thought, he was hardly one for complaining all that often.

He told Loras as much. “I do not complain,” he insisted, rather indignant.

“mm-hmm” Loras nodded. “Of course you don't my lord.”

Renly wondered whether the boy could have been more insincere if he tried.

Rolling his eyes, Renly chucked a pillow at him. That would wipe the smile off his face pretty quickly.

He was disappointed when Loras evaded it elegantly, merely grinning at Renly's poor attempt at retaliation. The pillow landed on the floor, some feet away from its intended target.

“It seems your aim is rather off today Renly,” he laughed.

“What happened to the sympathy?” Renly muttered under his breath, leaning back against the headboard. He wished now that he hadn't thrown his pillow at Loras, the board was hard and uncomfortable against his back. He shifted, trying to get comfortable.

Loras seemed to pick up on this and hopped off the bed to retrieve the pillow, tossing it casually back to Renly. He had to give it to Loras, Renly thought, he might be as insolent and brazen as they come, but he was perceptive and could be considerate when he wanted to be. Or when it suited him rather.

“Would you like to play a game Renly? You're always talking about how you love cyvasse.”

Cyvasse was indeed Renly's favourite game; Stannis had taught him to play as a boy. Regardless, Renly shook his head. “I don't think I'm up to it. My throat hurts and I've come over all shivery all of a sudden.”

“And you just insisted that you don't complain...” Loras grinned, ducking as the pillow came flying at him for a second time.

Renly sighed, it seemed that the boy was always one step ahead of him.

“Fine then” he said, rolling his eyes. “As long as you go and get the board.”

Loras obliged with relatively good grace, but not before throwing the pillow back to Renly, a rather smug smile on his face.

 

* * *

 

 

They were still playing when it began to get dark outside, lying diagonally across the bed, the board in between them. Renly was pleased to note that he'd finally found something that his squire was not particularly good at. So far, Loras seemed to have been gifted at everything he put his hand to. He was better with a sword than even the squires that were several years older than him and nearing knighthood, and the master at arms had told Renly that he handled a lance like he was born holding one. This being so, Renly was rather satisfied when Loras lost for what was the third time in a row.

“I see Cyvasse isn't your strongest point?” Renly said, feeling rather better now. His head still throbbed and forehead still felt rather hot, but winning seemed to relieve the pain somewhat. Or perhaps it simply took his mind off it.

“I guess not.” Loras shrugged nonchalantly. “I find it rather too slow moving for my taste.”

“Why did you suggest it then?” Renly said, laughing, his usual good spirits returned.

“You looked so pitiful this morning that I thought I better indulge you.”

Renly was about to retaliate when there was a sharp knock at the door and Penrose swept in, saving Loras from the retorts he'd been about to throw at him.

He looked Renly up and down before speaking. “I'm pleased to see that you haven't died on us quite yet, my lord.”

Renly grinned. “I'm feeling much better now actually Penrose. Thanks for asking...” He sighed. Couldn't a lord get any sympathy around here? Between Penrose and Loras, he reckoned he would soon start to feel guilty for having the bare faced cheek to feel unwell. He could only thank the Gods that Stannis wasn't here as well. Stannis had no time either for people who felt under the weather and Renly couldn't remember Stannis ever having neglected his duties for such a reason. In fact Renly couldn't remember Stannis having ever neglected his duties for any reason come to think of it.

“I'm glad my lord is feeling better," he smiled “Anyway, Maester Jurne has recommended that you rest Renly. I would suggest that you take his advice.” He beckoned for Loras to get up.

Renly nodded. He had hoped to beat Loras one more time before turning in for the night, but Penrose's words made sense and he had to admit that sleep was a rather appealing prospect.

After Penrose and Loras had left, Renly climbed back into bed, yawning. Sleep was a _very_ appealing prospect, he decided, lying back against the pillows. Besides, Loras would be around for a few more years yet. That was plenty of time to beat him at cyvasse again.


	6. Chapter 6

Renly was lying awake in bed, listening to the soft sound of the waves breaking against the castle walls when there was a knock at his door. Renly startled. It was late, very late in fact. He had turned in for the night hours ago. His heart sunk. A visitor to his chambers at this time of night could only mean one thing. Bad news. A multitude of scenarios flashed through his mind. Perhaps Robert had been assassinated, or Stannis drowned out on Dragonstone, or perhaps there was revolt amongst his bannermen.

“Come in” he said loudly, pushing the scenarios out of his head and sitting up. They were all incredibly unlikely. Stannis wasn't even at Dragonstone for gods sake. It was more likely something very trivial. But still he couldn't shake off the feeling of unease. A trivial matter would surely wait till morning...

Penrose strode in, his face impassive and unreadable in the near darkness.

“Penrose? It's the middle of the night. What is it?”

“A raven my lord, it arrived about an hour ago, from Highgarden-”

“-For Loras?” Renly interjected “Bad tidings?” _Dark wings Dark words_ echoed through his head.

Penrose frowned, confirming Renly's fears.

“Yes, my lord, bad tidings, A Tourney accident. Their eldest was half crushed by a horse, jousting against Prince Oberyn of Dorne”

“Fatal?”

“Not as of yet. Though looks like it could be, apparently infection has set in badly. At best he'll be permanently crippled or lose only the leg, at worst...” Penrose paused “at worst, the wound will fester and he won't survive the week”

Renly winced. Jousting was such a dangerous activity, and yet men continued to do it, including himself despite the fact he took little pleasure in it. Somehow the thrill of the win outweighed the risks.

“And Loras? How did he take it?”

“Badly. he's distraught, the poor boy. One of the servants is with him, but I thought I might do well to see if you wanted to see him, he's ever so fond of you”

Renly was already up. Pulling a tunic over his nightclothes, he followed Penrose to Loras' room. He could hear muffled sobs even from the corridor. He knocked gently. When there was no answer he put his head round the door.

A kindly young girl who'd been in Renly's employ for several years now was sitting with Loras, stroking his hair as he sobbed into her shoulder.

“Loras? Can I come in?” Renly asked softly and Loras looked up, his eyes full of tears. He wiped them away hastily when he saw Renly standing in the doorway. It was odd to see him like this Renly thought. He'd known Loras for the better part of a year now, and he'd seen him irritated, moody and angry even, but never upset. It was rather disconcerting.

Renly gestured for girl to leave them. She obliged immediately, though not without a furtive glance back at Loras one last time, her face full of concern.

Renly sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed where the girl had been sitting moments earlier. Loras looked up at him, his eyes wide and his cheeks stained with tears. Renly's heart went out to him. He knew that his family meant everything to Loras and he knew that Loras would hate anyone seeing him like this. He put his hand on Loras' shoulder, trying to comfort him.

“Penrose told me about the raven. I'm sorry Loras” Loras merely bit back tears and nodded, seemingly ashamed of his lack of composure.

Renly sighed softly and drew Loras to him, pulling him gently against his chest. Loras seemed rather taken aback by this unexpected offer of comfort, but shifted so that his head was resting against Renly's shoulder. Tears were falling again, and Renly held him tightly against him as Loras continued to sob against his shoulder. Loras clung desperately back, his head buried in Renly's neck. Slowly the sobs died away and eventually he was quiet.

“We should pray for your brother Loras” Renly suggested.

“Do you believe in praying Renly?” The boy looked up at him earnestly, his eyes swimming with tears that hadn't yet fallen.

Renly didn't answer for a while. It was true that the Gods seemed unmoved by the prayers of mortals. When he was very young he and Maester Cressen had prayed every day for the siege of Storm's End to break. Stannis had not joined them. He believed only in the strength of men. It had been Ned Stark who had broken the siege, not the Gods.

“I'm not sure Loras” He said eventually, pulling the boy close again, and stroking his hair as the girl had been doing. His hair felt as lovely as it looked, soft and silky under his fingers. Loras leant against him heavily, his heart beating erratically, and the odd sob escaping.

…........................................................................................................................................................................................................................................

Renly did not remember falling asleep, but light was streaming through the curtains when he woke, Loras still curled up against him. He was peaceful now, his breathing soft and regular.

Renly disentangled himself gently from the boy, and tried not to wake him as he pulled the covers up over him and slid off the bed.

He dithered for a moment at the door, not sure whether to go or stay. It would not be at all proper for him to be there when Loras woke up. He had already outstayed his welcome by falling asleep and he had many things to see to. Penrose would be expecting him for their usual morning meetings, and he had rather urgent business with one of his bannermen.

Just as he made up his mind to go however, he made the mistake of looking back at Loras' sleeping form. He looked so small and helpless lying there all alone, his curls falling over his face, his hands now clutching the covers loosely. Loras had been his friend for the better part of a year now. his only friend even, surely he deserved better than to be pushed aside for dull household affairs.

Throwing his Lordship duties out of the window, Renly turned away from the door and back towards him. 


	7. Chapter 7

A tense couple of weeks followed the raven from Highgarden. Every morning without fail Loras would accompany Maester Jurne to the rookery, hoping that news of how his brother was faring would have arrived. Every morning they descended the stairs empty handed. 

“Perhaps no news is good news” Penrose suggested to Renly one morning after the Maester and Loras had returned disappointed yet again “We'd surely have heard by now if he had died.” 

“Mayhaps” Renly agreed. “But you try telling Loras that.” 

Renly sighed. He had never met Willas Tyrell, a boy several years older than himself, but he hoped for Loras' sake that he pulled through. Loras was not coping well. He was a shadow of his former self. The light seemed to have gone out of his eyes, and even his usually unruly curls seemed more limp. He picked at his food and Renly had had to command him to eat the day before yesterday. He barely slept and more often than not Renly found himself sitting with Loras late into the night, unwilling to leave him alone with his fears and his grief. 

Such grief was alien to Renly. He had not been old enough to mourn his parent's deaths when they had perished out on Shipbreaker bay. For which he was grateful. He thought of them sometimes when he was stood out on the parapets of Storm's End, looking out to sea as he knew Stannis and Robert had done as the ship had crashed upon the rocks before their very eyes. 

Stannis had mourned their death for years Renly knew. Perhaps not with tears and prayers, but in his own quiet serious way he had grieved for the parents that had left him to bring up Renly alone. He pushed these thoughts out of his mind, hopefully Loras wouldn't be forced to grieve as Stannis and Robert had done. 

I was thinking of giving him leave to go to Highgarden Penrose.” 

“I imagine he would appreciate that. Though you'd do best to wait until we hear news first. It would do no good to have him travel to Highgarden still not knowing” 

Renly nodded in silent agreement. In some ways not knowing was worse than any news the raven could bring. Renly smiled sadly, glancing out of the window. He'd half expected to see a raven there, as if his thoughts could will the Maesters in Highgarden to send news. But the sky was empty. Not even a cloud could be seen. 

He sighed and turned away. It seemed they had yet another night of anxious waiting in store. 

….......................................................................................................................................................................................................................................

It was mid morning when the raven Loras was waiting for finally arrived. 

Maester Jurne brought Renly the letter immediately, his kindly old face anxious. 

Renly sighed, running his finger over the rose seal, hoping that it contained good news. Loras himself was not around. As ever he was training in the yard with the other squires under the watchful eye of the stern master at arms. Training had been the sole thing Loras hadn't neglected since he'd been told of Willas' injury. If anything, he seemed to have become even more dedicated, his grief seeming to spur him on in some strange way. 

“Do you think we should open it?” He turned to Penrose for advice “It isn't specifically addressed to Loras.”

“Perhaps that is for the best” Penrose said “It might be best that you let him down gently if it is indeed bad tidings” 

Renly sighed. Of course it would have to fall to him to tell Loras that his brother had died. He couldn't think of anything less appealing. Loras would fall apart at such news, and Renly didn't know if he could bear to watch. 

Steeling himself for bad news, he opened the letter. Inside the envelope was another letter addressed to Loras. He put it down on the table to give to Loras later, and ignoring the questioning stares of Penrose and Maester Jurne, he read on. 

It was a brief letter and Renly was smiling by the time he'd got to the end of the second line. He looked up to Penrose and Maester Jurne who were waiting impatiently beside him. 

“It's good news!” Renly sighed with relief. His brother is recovering well.” 

The two men beside him visibly relaxed, the Maester's face breaking into a wide smile. 

“The Maesters have managed to save the leg, and they think he'll walk again yet, albeit it with some difficulty. He'll never joust again though.” 

“From what we were told of his injuries, he should thank the Gods that he may yet walk again, let alone joust!” Penrose said “And Lord and Lady Tyrell don't want Loras returned to them?” 

Renly whipped round to face him “Why would they want to take Loras back?”

Penrose frowned. “I wouldn't put it past some lords and ladies to get overly protective of their other children after such an accident. And there would be little point him him squiring for you if they were to forbid him from jousting for instance.”

Renly laughed “I should imagine that if Lord and Lady Tyrell know their youngest son at all, they would have more sense than to bother even trying to forbid him from jousting!” 

…..............................................................................................................................................................................................................................................

Renly found Loras where he knew he'd be, training in courtyard with the other squires. He stood at the edge for while, not wanting to interrupt. 

He hadn't watched the squires properly for a long time Renly thought, not since had Loras had arrived in fact, almost a year ago now.

Renly sighed. Time seemed to pass so quickly. Loras had been good even then Renly had thought. But watching him now, it was obvious that he'd improved tremendously since then. He was toying with his current opponent, parrying the clumsy blows that were thrown at him almost effortlessly. He was beautiful to watch, all elegance, grace and finesse. He'd be deadly one day Renly thought. Beautiful but deadly. 

The master at arms spotted him watching after a time and wandered over. 

“This is a nice surprise my lord” he said gruffly “Come to have a go yourself?” 

“I'm afraid not, maybe another day” Renly replied cheerfully. He had used to practice such things every day when he'd been younger. But recently he'd found little interest in it, and had gradually stopped bothering less and less, much to the disappointment of the master at arms. 

“That's a shame my lord, we could do with someone who has a bit more experience to put these pups in line.” 

“And you're sure I'd be able to?” Renly laughed. He was by no means bad with a sword, and he had much of the strength that had once made his brother such a fearsome warrior, but watching Loras now, he wasn't overly confident that he would be able to beat him. 

The master at arms followed his gaze, chuckling when he saw who Renly was watching. “Aye that one is not half bad I'll grant you. But you'd still have the upper hand my lord” He paused, turning to watch Loras for a moment “But perhaps not for much longer though” he added, laughing heartily. 

“He certainly does seem to be improving rather rapidly” Renly admitted. 

“Aye that he is. You should have a go with him my lord, it would do him good. Both for his skills and for his attitude. He could be doing with being taken down a peg or two.” 

“I can well believe it” Renly laughed “Then perhaps I will. And soon. Before he has the time to improve any more!” 

The master at arms nodded his approval before heading back over to the squires. They were finishing up now, many of them very much out of breath. They leant heavily against the wall as the master at arms gave them an earful. 

Renly laughed as he tore them apart, criticizing their posture, their technique and just about everything else. Some of the very young boys were practically quivering with fear at his words, cowering behind the older ones who had learnt long ago that the master at arms' bark was worse than his bite. 

Loras too appeared to have spotted Renly waiting patiently at the edge of the courtyard and was frowning, seemingly disconcerted by Renly's unexpected presence there. 

He made his way over to him as soon as the master at arms finished his rant, looking up at Renly half-expectantly. Renly suspected that he had probably realised why he had come. 

Renly grinned at him “A raven just arrived from Highgarden Loras. It brought good news! Your brother is recovering well. Only the leg will remain damaged” 

Renly laughed as Loras smiled genuinely for what seemed like the first time in weeks. A weight seemed to have been lifted off his shoulders and he simply grinned back at Renly, seemingly at a loss for words, before practically launching himself at Renly, flinging his arms around his neck. 

Renly couldn't help but continue laughing, sharing in Loras' joy. He hugged him back for a time, laughing when he saw the strange looks they were getting from across the courtyard. Apparently it was an unusual sight to see the lord of Storm's End embracing his squire. Renly grinned, not caring in the slightest.


	8. Chapter 8

As Renly had anticipated, Loras jumped at the chance to return home to see his family. To tell the truth Renly was slightly disappointed. Selfishly, he'd half hoped that Loras would decline the offer. Storm's End would be terribly dull without his companion. Still, Renly held true to his words, and duly had Penrose make the necessary arrangements. In a few weeks, when Willas was fully recovered, Penrose and a number of Renly's personal guard were to escort Loras as far as Bitterbridge where his brother Garlan would meet him to take him the rest of the way to Highgarden.

Loras had not been overly impressed at the arrangements, resenting the way in which he was to be handed over from Penrose to Garlan like a child who needed an escort. Penrose had laughed. _When you're a knight Loras, you can ride the Rose road alone as often as you like_ he had insisted. Until then however, Penrose and Renly were taking no chances. The roads between Storm's End and Highgarden were not particularly dangerous, but with one son recently crippled, Renly doubted whether Mace Tyrell would ever forgive him if he let any harm befall another.

Now, much to Penrose's amusement, Loras was sulking. He had avoided Penrose as much as possible for the past few days, going out of his way not to speak to him. Penrose loved every minute of it and took much pleasure in following Loras down corridors just to wind him up, Edric Storm close at his heels. It seemed too that Renly's young nephew thought this was the best game Penrose had played with him yet.

Renly had just laughed and refused to take sides, much to Loras' annoyance.

Now, Renly was lying on his bed, listening duly to Loras rant about Penrose and the arrangements some more, doing his best not to laugh. He had considered pointing out to Loras that Penrose might stop treating him like a child if he stopped acting like one, but he didn't imagine that that would go down overly well with Loras. So instead he lay there quietly, nodding in all the right places and refusing to give his opinion on the matter.

Eventually Loras ran out of steam and Renly was finally able to change the subject.

“I was wondering Loras if on the morrow you fancied showing me how good you've got with a sword?”

This cheered Loras right up, and he forgot all about his irritation with Penrose immediately. Renly smiled, it seemed that appealing to Loras' vanity never failed to put Loras back in good spirits.

“Why would you like to watch?” He asked eagerly.

“Actually,” Renly paused, wondering if he'd regret this “I meant it as a challenge.”

Loras looked rather taken aback, and Renly supposed he had reason to be. In the whole year, Loras had never seen Renly so much as pick up a sword.

“Alright...” he said, rather uncharacteristically cautiously “But on one condition?”

“Whatever you like Loras.” Renly said, laughing. What's the condition?”

Loras smirked “That I don't have to let you win.”

…...............................................................................................................................................................................................................................................

The next morning Renly and Loras walked down together to the courtyard. Renly had meant it to be merely a bit of fun between two friends, but it appeared that the majority of his household thought otherwise. A large group had already assembled beneath the castle walls and it looked very much like they were going to have an audience. Most consisted of knights from his guard and their squires, but Renly thought he recognized the odd serving girl too.

Renly sighed, he had told only Penrose that he and Loras were going to practice together on the morrow, and yet somehow the news that the Lord of Storm's End was taking on his squire in combat had spread like wildfire. It seemed he'd have to organise another Tourney soon if life at Storm's End had become so dull that him and Loras' antics were the most exciting thing going on.

The master at arms chuckled when he saw them approach and Renly hoped to the gods that he was right about Renly being able to beat Loras. Bettering a boy four years his junior ought to have been easy enough for Renly. He'd had the best arms training the Stormlands could offer, and came from what the master at arms called _good warrior stock_. And yet despite all this still there were seeds of doubt in Renly's mind.

He had denied Loras' request to use real swords, stating that Loras was too young for such things. The master at arms had agreed and suggested the wooden swords usually used by squires and young men, but, as Renly had suspected he would be, Loras had seemed insulted at such a notion. They had compromised in the middle, using real steel with blunted edges. A blunt weapon could still do a decent of damage though Renly mused if you put enough force behind it.

Renly turned to face Loras, rather more nervous than he ought to have been. Renly was starting to regret suggesting this. Loras seemed confident. _Too confident_ Renly thought. Still, it was too late to back out now. Especially now that so many people had gathered to watch.

“Alright then let's get this over with” he laughed, drawing his sword.

Loras nodded, smirking somewhat.

And so it began. Renly tried to keep a straight face as they circled each other, tension building in the air as both waited for the other to strike first. Soon Renly's heart was in his mouth, his eyes never leaving Loras'. He could bear the tension no longer, but forced himself not to look away as he steeled himself to make the first move.

Eventually he broke the gaze, the spell breaking as Renly lunged at Loras, blade held high. Loras smiled as he evaded the attack, responding much more defensively than Renly had been anticipating, and with none of the agility that he'd seen Loras display against the other squires the other day. He was doing only enough to evade Renly's blows, retreating back further and further.

This puzzled Renly. At first he'd thought maybe that Loras was trying to lull him into a false sense of security, hiding his true ability from Renly, but this made little sense. Surely Loras knew that Renly had seen him practice only the other day.

It was only when he glanced up at Loras' face that it hit him what the boy was trying to do. He knew that look in an instant, Loras biting his lip as he always did when he was thinking hard. In his eagerness to get the fight over with, Renly of course had forgotten that he had one distinct advantage over Loras, the age difference aside. He had seen Loras fight before, and so knew what to expect from him. For Loras however, Renly was a mystery. The boy could have no idea as to what approach Renly would take. He was studying Renly, watching him he retreated, trying to find a weakness in his technique that he could exploit.

Renly smiled. So that was the game was it? He'd have to make Loras work a little harder was all and not give him the chance to find the weakness he was looking for. Grinning, Renly pushed himself harder, putting yet more power behind his blows.

At some point Loras would be forced to respond. He couldn't retreat forever, and if he continued stepping backwards at the rate he was doing so now, Renly would soon have him cornered against the wall of the castle.

Meeting Loras' eyes briefly, it seemed clear that Loras realised this too. And sure enough when Renly had got him all but completely backed up against the stone walls, he wheeled round, his stint at playing the defensive over.

And Gods he was fast. Trying to concentrate, Renly couldn't help but curse under his breath as Loras skirted round him, Renly's blade finding only air where Loras had been merely seconds earlier. It was all Renly could do to keep up with him.

He knew well the tactic that Loras was trying to use against him. It was a classic approach, used when facing opponents much bigger and stronger than oneself. He was trying to tire him out and frustrate him, forcing him into making a clumsy mistake that Loras would then exploit.

It was working it seemed. Renly winced as Loras' blade whistled past his ear, far too close for Renly's liking. He upped his efforts and countered, forcing Loras to parry his blows, the steel of their swords singing as they made contact. Loras was refusing to meet him full on, his sword only briefly glancing Renly's as he evaded his attacks. Loras evidently knew that if it came down to a clash of swords and strength, Renly would overpower him with ease.

Catching Loras' eye for a split second however, it seemed clear that Loras was not going to let that happen any time soon. The boy was smirking, his confidence still intact. Renly grimaced. This was not looking good. The tables had turned and it was Renly now who was taking the steps backwards, Loras pushing him further and further back against the castle walls.

Renly gritted his teeth. The situation was not great but he could still win this. All he needed to do really was land one decent blow to get Loras down. Loras was fast and technically very good, yet with his slight frame and stature he had no hope of matching Renly's strength. He just had to force Loras into a position where he could use his strength against him. That was proving more difficult than he had anticipated though, and Renly was beginning to tire. He had to end this quickly.

Deciding to use Loras' own tactics against him, Renly feinted to the side, Loras' sword finding only air where it had expected to find Renly's sword. It was all Renly needed. Loras staggered forward, clearly off balance, the gaps in his defence wide open. Swinging round, Renly lunged at him. Off balance as he was Loras could do nothing but meet Renly's sword straight on. Their eyes locked as their swords met, and Renly couldn't help couldn't help but smirk as he put his full weight behind his blade.

As he had expected, Loras buckled under the pressure, his strength failing. Renly took his chance quickly, going in for the final blow, feeling an unexpected pang of guilt as the flat of his blade hit the younger boy hard in the ribs, sending him crashing down to the ground.

Renly breathed a sigh of relief. That had been too close for comfort.

Laughing he offered a hand to Loras and hauled him back to his feet, pleased to see that Loras looked none the worse for the blow to the ribs. His curls were a little ruffled and he seemed to favour one side slightly, but overall no great harm seemed done.

To his surprise Loras seemed rather unfazed by his loss. He had merely shrugged nonchalantly and congratulated Renly, smiling slightly as the group that had gathered to watch them dispersed, going back to their daily routines now the excitement was over. The servants quickly returned to the castle, many of them laughing and jesting about quite how formidable Renly had looked, whilst the squires eagerly ran off to practice themselves, evidently riled up from watching.

Renly laughed as the courtyard quickly descended into chaos around him, the squires turning on each other rapidly. Grinning once more at Loras, he left them to it and retreated back to where the master at arms was standing quietly in the shadow of the castle walls.

“How did it look?” Renly asked him jovially, leaning slightly against the castle walls. He was more worn out than he cared to admit.

The master at arms laughed, a great rumble of a sound that reminded Renly of thunder. “I admit my lord, I thought he had you for a moment there” He paused, chuckling “Though I shouldn't worry, I doubt many of your spectators realised that at one point you were in serious trouble. It was well rescued my lord”

Renly laughed back “I thought it was rather obvious myself. I knew you would have picked up on at at least”

“Aye that I did. The boy too. He thought he had it in the bag at one point. And to be fair to the lad, it could have gone either way really. He knows that with a bit of luck, he could have won that.”

Renly grinned, that would explain why Loras was taking the loss so well then. He suspected that even now Loras was plotting the rematch.

“I would have to agree” he admitted. Loras could have definitely won that with a stroke of luck. Renly had been rather sure at one point that he was going to lose to him. It had been all he could do just to keep up. “He'll be brilliant one day wont he?”

“Aye I dare say he will” the master at arms conceded gruffly, turning to watch the squires at their antics.

Renly sighed, joining the master at arms in watching the squires and glancing again at Loras on the other side of the courtyard. It seemed that before long Renly was going to be far outclassed by his squire.


	9. Chapter 9

Loras rolled his eyes as the seamstresses worked, wincing slightly every now and again when one of them accidentally prodded him with a pin. He was stood in the middle of the room on a wooden stool being attacked by tape measures, whilst one of the seamstresses rolled out great swathes of fabric for Renly to inspect. Soon the floor was covered in velvets and silks in varying tones of black and gold, Renly walking among them trying to work out which ones he liked best.

Renly sighed, stopping at a deep charcoal velvet that had taken his fancy. Loras had long outgrown all the clothes that he'd brought with him from Highgarden and Renly was taking the opportunity to dress his squire how he liked. Loras hadn't minded, he just didn't see quite why everything had to be black and gold.

Deciding on the charcoal, Renly turned to the head seamstress, who was brandishing one of the already completed garments in his face.

Renly inspected it. It was a rather basic linen shirt, black and edged with gold. Simple but elegant Renly thought. And yet... something was missing.

“Perhaps we could add a stag there?” Renly suggested, pointing to the shirt. Loras would be returning to Highgarden to visit his family in a few days and Renly wanted his new allegiance to be an evident as possible.

“You've already ordered about ten thousand of the bloody creatures to be embroidered already!” Loras said, indignant, almost jumping off the stool.

Renly turned to face him. “Are you not proud to be my squire Loras?” he jested, raising an eyebrow.

“Pray tell me _my lord_ ” Loras said, his tone mockingly but his eyes full of humour “When was the last time I actually _did_ anything as your squire? A squire is supposed to dress his lord for battle, carry his banner, and care for his amour. I can't recall the last time you even _wore_ your armour.” He sighed dramatically “You know some boys get lucky... they get to squire for Barristan the Bold, or the Sword of the Morning, Jaime Lannister even, and I get _Renly bloody Baratheon_ who would rather order seamstresses to embroider ridiculous numbers of stags than do anything of use!”

Renly laughed, “You wound me Loras! But it's hardly my fault that there's a distinct lack of wars to fight in!"

Loras grinned “I suppose it could have been worse. They say Randyll Tarly works his squires so hard that most of them beg to go home before they've even lasted a month”

Knowing lord Tarly's fearsome reputation, Renly could well believe it. “Well be grateful then” He shot back at Loras, his eyes shining with laughter. “Perhaps when you get back I'll have you scrubbing my armour every day then if that's what you so desire.”

“You don't wear your armour enough for it to need scrubbing” Loras said simply

“Just you wait and see” Renly threatened “While you're gone I'll wear it every day and religiously spend at least an hour in the sea. I'll create so much rust that you'll have your work cut out for weeks!”

Loras shrugged, grinning “Well it's not like I have anything better to do.”

Renly was just trying to think of something witty to throw back at him when Penrose entered, seemingly rather surprised to see the floor entirely covered in fabric.

“You're not having yet more clothes made are you my lord?” he sighed.

“As a matter of fact I'm not” Renly said indignantly “As it so happens, Loras has grown a lot recently. And it would not do at all to send him back to Highgarden looking like he's crawled out of some gutter somewhere.”

“Well that makes a change then” Penrose laughed “You're already the best dressed lord in the seven kingdoms I'd wager.”

“I'm glad you think so.” Renly broke into a grin “While the seamstresses are here Penrose, does Edric need anything made? We have reams of black and gold material left over. And Edric is a Baratheon after all even if he doesn't have our name”

“Indeed” Penrose smiled. ”As you like Renly”

Renly nodded. It would be nice to treat the boy to some new clothes. He was his nephew after all, and high-born, even if he was a bastard.

Meanwhile Loras had finally been permitted to get off the stool and was now being forced into some of the already completed garments.

“How does he look my lord?” One of the seamstresses asked Renly

He stepped back to admire their handiwork. They'd dressed Loras in Baratheon colours from head to toe, a giant stag on his doublet where Renly was accustomed to seeing a golden rose, and miniature golden stags embroidered around the cuffs of the sleeves in intricate gold lace. Even the pockets were adorned with gilded prancing stags and they stood out impressively against the black velvet.

“I like it” he decided.

Loras groaned “My brothers are never going to let me live this down....”

Renly just smiled at him innocently.

…............................................................................................................................................................................................................................................

Lying across Loras' bed, Renly sighed as he watched the younger boy gather up his things from around his room, throwing all the stuff he wanted to take with him in an unceremonious heap on the floor. Loras was to leave for Highgarden at first light on the morrow and Renly was not looking forward to him going. It was going to be unimaginably dull while he was away.

Reflecting on his life now, Renly couldn't quite remember how he'd filled his days before Loras had arrived. It seemed that he'd always been here, a constant companion who never failed to keep Renly entertained.

They'd got into a routine over the past few months it seemed. Every morning without fail Loras would come to wake him, sitting cross-legged at the end of Renly's bed while Renly groaned and refused to get up. Renly wasn't overly fond of mornings and he was even less fond of the way Loras had taken to dragging him forcefully out of bed if all else failed. They'd then breakfast with Penrose in the solar before Loras would go off to practice in the training yard and Renly would sit a while with Penrose dealing with official matters. After that was done, they'd spend the rest of the day together, usually passing their evenings either lounging about in Renly's chambers or up on the parapets of Storm's End. Loras would immediately pull himself up onto the walls themselves, his legs dangling precariously over the edge, doing exactly what Penrose told him constantly not to do. Renly always laughed, he'd long given up telling Loras what not to do.

It would be strange whilst Loras was gone Renly thought. He wouldn't know what to do with himself.

Loras collapsed down next to him after a time, all of his things now thrown into his trunk. They lay in a comfortable silence for a while, Renly staring up at the ceiling, tracing patterns in the stonework with his eyes. He'd come to know this ceiling well, having recently spent night after night lying here comforting Loras in his distress over his brother. He'd been inconsolable some nights, clinging to Renly almost desperately. Renly could not even begin to express how relieved he was to see Loras' spirits returned. It had been a miserable few weeks.

Rolling over. Renly turned to face Loras. He was sprawled out next to him, eyes closed and seemingly exhausted.

Renly laughed “Shall I let you get to bed now?” He asked, prodding him in the side when he got no response.

He was surprised when Loras winced, grimacing in pain.

Renly sat up immediately and leant over him. He'd forgotten all about having hit Loras in the ribs during their fight the day before yesterday. Looking back on it, he'd probably hit him rather harder than necessary.

“Did I hurt you the other day?” He asked, suddenly anxious.

Loras laughed “Only slightly. We were training together. It happens”

“But still” Renly tugged his shirt up slightly to have a look. It looked painful, a black and purple bruise blooming angrily across the skin.

He touched it gently, running his hands along Loras' ribcage, checking that there was no damage aside from the bruising. Loras winced again and shuddered ever so slightly, but didn't pull away, lying calmly under Renly's hands.

“Has Maester Jurne seen this?” Renly asked, frowning.

“It's a bruise Renly. Nothing more” Loras rolled his eyes “Don't worry”

“Yes but I did this” Renly insisted.

Loras just shook his head in exasperation, and tugged his shirt back down, effectively dismissing the matter. Yawning, he rolled over onto his good side and lay his head on Renly's lap, eyes closing again.

Renly sighed, reaching down to tuck one of Loras' curls behind his ear. He knew he was being ridiculous, and that he shouldn't feel guilty about what in reality was an everyday occurrence in the training yard,, and yet still he felt rather anxious. He contemplated insisting that Loras see Maester Jurne but he knew he would be fighting a losing battle. The elderly Master would already be in bed by now, and there was no way Loras would let Renly wake him up over a mere bruise.

Admitting defeat on the matter, Renly shifted Loras off his lap and lay back down next to him. Loras sighed sleepily, moving to lean his head against Renly's shoulder and pulling Renly's arm around him.

Renly smiled. “Are you looking forward to seeing your family Loras?” He asked, resting his head on top of Loras' curls affectionately.

“mm hmm” Loras hummed sleepily against his shoulder.

“Will you miss me?”

“mm hmm” Loras repeated, sighing deeply, a soft content sort of sound that felt warm against Renly's neck.

Renly smiled and shut his eyes too.


	10. Chapter 10

Renly woke alone, still sprawled across Loras' bed. Sitting up and rubbing his eyes, he glanced out of the window. The sun was high in the sky. Loras and Penrose must have departed hours ago.

He was somewhat disappointed that Loras hadn't woken him to say goodbye, but he guessed he ought to feel grateful. The plan had been to leave at dawn, and Loras was certainly aware how very little Renly liked mornings considering it was him who usually had to drag him out of bed most mornings.

Renly contemplated going back to sleep seeing as there was no-one this morning to demand his company, and yet it felt strange lingering in Loras' room when Loras wasn't in it.

Sighing, Renly forced himself to get out of bed and back to his own chambers.

Finding himself at a loss as to how to pass the day, he spent longer dressing than usual, deliberating over his clothes. Eventually he picked a deep blue doublet that he liked to think brought out his eyes. He'd ordered it made as a present to himself on his last name day and had been rather pleased with the results.

Once dressed he wandered the castle for a while, eventually settling in the solar with half a mind to take a nap. He lamented how empty it was. In the past he'd always coped rather well with being alone. When he was a boy, Maester Cressen had played with him and occasionally Stannis had indulged him for the odd afternoon, but on the whole he'd amused himself for most of his childhood. When Stannis had gone taking Maester Cressen with him, Renly had been even more alone, with only Penrose to entertain him. He'd never let it bother him. He'd learnt to enjoy his own company long ago.

Not anymore though Renly mused. It was surprising how quickly one became accustomed to having constant company and now Loras was gone Renly didn't know what to do with himself.

Renly sighed deeply, staring out of the window absent-mindedly. His thoughts were with Loras, somewhere along the Storm Road. Smiling, he thought back to what Loras had said a few days past, lamenting how little he seemed to do as Renly's squire. Perhaps he ought to organise a Tourney Renly mused. He had celebrated his fourteenth name day with one, and had been planning on holding another for his sixteenth which was fast approaching. Loras' brother's accident though had made it completely slip his mind. It was too late now to organise one for his name day, and besides Loras would be away, but perhaps in a few months Renly mused.

His mind made up, Renly set himself to planning. He was very fond of Tourney's and he found that he enjoyed choosing the dishes for the feasts and deciding on the entertainment. No expense would be spared. Stannis would call him frivolous, but Renly didn't care. It was peacetime and the height of Summer and Renly couldn't see what was wrong with being frivolous.

....................................................

Penrose returned after a few days, riding into the courtyard late one afternoon.

Renly went out to meet him.

“How fared your journey?” He asked cheerfully, embracing the older man fondly when he'd dismounted.

“Not bad at all” Penrose replied “Loras' brother was waiting at Bitterbridge as arranged. Everything went very smoothly.”

Renly smiled “And Loras seemed pleased to see his brother?”

“I dare say he was” Penrose laughed “And his sister too. Apparently she couldn't bear the day or so that it might take them to get from Bitterbridge to Highgarden!”

Renly laughed. That sounded about right. Loras wrote to his sister every week without fail and pure adoration crept into his voice whenever he spoke of her. From what Loras had told him, the pair sounded like they'd been inseparable before Loras had come to Storm's End. Renly found the thought made him strangely jealous.

“What are his siblings like?” He asked Penrose, curiosity getting the better of his envy.

“I'm sure they'd please you my lord” He paused in thought “The sister looks very much like Loras. She's only a girl but already a great beauty.”

Renly snorted. That much was obvious he thought. Anyone that looked even remotely like Loras could not fail to be a great beauty.

“And you'd get on very well with Ser Garlan I dare say. A very amiable fellow. He has all of his brother's charm and easy grace and yet none of his tenacity.”

Renly couldn't help but laugh. It was no secret that Penrose did not find Loras' stubbornness quite as endearing as he did. The pair drove each other up the wall, Loras resenting the way in which he felt Penrose treated him like a child, and Penrose resenting Loras' insolence. Renly imagined though that Penrose was rather more fond of Loras than he cared to admit. He had been just as concerned as Renly when Loras had all but fallen to pieces after news of Willas' accident.

Making the most of the evening sunshine, they walked leisurely back up to the castle. Renly found he was glad of his return. Penrose had been a constant presence since Stannis had left and somehow Storm's End did not seem quite right without him.

This said however, he still wasn't Loras.

.....................................................

By the time Renly's name day arrived, it seemed like Loras had been away for an eternity. The days had dragged on, endlessly merging into one another until Renly could no longer remember which week it was.

His name day was a pleasant interruption to the monotony.

Wandering down to the solar in the morning, he was pleased to see that both his brothers had sent him gifts. More out of duty than affection Renly knew, but he wasn't going to be the one to complain.

From Robert he received a longsword. Running his hands over the pommel, Renly could see it was beautifully crafted, a Baratheon stag set into the handle. Renly couldn't help but laugh. Every year without fail Robert would send him some variety of weapon. Hells, he had even sent Edric a miniature war hammer this year past, and Edric was only eight.

Predictably, Stannis' gift also revolved around warfare. As simple as the sword had been ostentatious, the shield Stannis had send him seemed sturdy, unbreakable almost, just like the man who had given it to him. Renly was rather pleased with it. He would have it painted in his colours and it would do very well in mêlées Renly thought.

It was the only thing his two brothers seemed to agree on nowadays Renly thought laughing, that they should try to mould their younger brother into a decent soldier! For once they were fighting a losing battle there Renly thought. He enjoyed fighting in the odd mêlée and sometimes performed rather well in them, but that was the extent of it. He had no thirst for blood and war like Robert did.

His brothers still in his thought, Renly left the solar, deciding to saddle up his horse on a whim. It had been a long time since he'd gone out riding alone and yet instinctively he found himself riding the same route that was still so familiar to him even after all these years.

It was a beautiful place he thought, a wooded glade no more than three miles from the castle walls. He had always felt at peace here, and in his childhood had often passed entire days here, leaning back against one of the old oak tree and enjoying the soft sound of the stream nearby. The clearing wasn't far from the road and yet Renly imagined if you didn't already know where it was, you would never know it was there.

He himself had stumbled upon it quite by chance. He had left the castle alone, defying Penrose in exploring the Stormlands by himself. It had been a stormy day, and Renly had left the road, venturing deep into the woods, seeking shelter under the trees.

Despite the weather, the place had delighted him the moment he had laid eyes on it, raindrops collecting in the petals of the wild-flowers, and the branches of the trees bending in the wind. He had sat himself down in the shelter of the large oak tree, listening to the sound of the wind through the trees and not caring that the grass was damp underneath him. Dusk had fallen before he eventually returned to the castle. Renly smiled, remembering. Penrose had been furious, worried sick that some harm had befallen Renly in the storm. Guards had braved the raging winds and torrential rain to try and find him, searching desperately for him in every place they could think to look.

Today however, the weather was calm, only a gentle breeze rustling through the trees above his head. Lying down, he stretched out in the dappled sunlight, enjoying the way the grass tickled the back of his neck. It was his place, and he fell asleep safe in the knowledge that no-one would disturb him here.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update! Will be returning to the usual pattern of a chapter every day or two from now on.

Eventually the day that Loras was scheduled to return finally came. Penrose had left the morning before to retrieve him from Bitterbridge and Renly had been restless all day, sat at the window of his chambers, watching for their return.

They still had not arrived by the time dusk was falling and yet still Renly sat at the window ledge, watching the road that was rapidly being swallowed up by the shadows absent-mindedly. Having failed to reach the castle before dark, Renly knew there was a fair chance that Penrose would have stopped for the night at an inn, not wishing to travel by night. Renly pushed this thought aside. He had no desire to go to bed quite yet. And so, ignoring the overwhelming urge to yawn and the fact that he could barely keep his eyes open, he remained seated at the window, the stone of the ledge cold and hard underneath him as it dug into his thighs.

He sighed. He should probably turn in for the night. It was unlikely that they would return now that the road was all but completely obscured by darkness, only the dim moon providing any light. He really should go to bed. But perhaps he would wait just a little longer he decided. Just in case.

He had no recollection of falling asleep, but he figured he must have done when he awakened abruptly to someone shaking his shoulder. He groaned and tried to roll over, remembering just a little too late that he'd been sitting on the window ledge.

Strong hands broke his fall and pushed him back on to the ledge.

“That looks comfortable.” the person remarked and at Loras's voice Renly opened his eyes, smiling sleepily at him.

“Good trip?” He managed, rubbing his eyes.

Loras laughed, grabbing his hand and pulling him to his feet. “I'll tell you all about it in the morning if you like?”

Renly opened his mouth to protest, but instead only yawned, making Loras laugh again. He wanted to curse him. How could anyone be so awake and chirpy at this hour? He was too tired to complain though and let himself be led to his chambers, collapsing on to the bed and back to sleep as soon as his head touched the pillow.

............................................

Loras was there in the morning when he woke, already dressed and sitting cross-legged on the end of his bed like he'd never been away. Renly was pleased to see him there. He had woken with a vague recollection of seeing him last night but had feared he'd only dreamt it.

“Morning.” Loras was smiling.

Renly returned the smile, sitting up and blinking in the morning light. It seemed like a nice day outside. Sunlight was streaming through the curtains, warming the room with its glow and making Loras' curls shine like golden silk.

“You never did tell me about your trip.” he yawned, leaning back against the headboard.

“It was late” Loras shrugged nonchalantly.

“Still I would have listened.”

“I know.” Loras said simply.

Renly grinned “Well will you tell me about it now?”

“Later, first I have something for you.” He shifted, leaning over the edge of the bed to pick something up off the floor.

Renly regarded him curiously. They had agreed the year before not to do name day presents. Renly hadn't wanted him to feel pressurised into buying him something, and besides, both of them had enough money to buy anything they desired anyway.

“I know we agreed not to, but I didn't actually spend any money so it doesn't count.”

Renly laughed “You really didn't have to but I guess that seems fair enough!”

Loras tossed him the bag. “I know you like them, and the ones you Storm Lords try to grow here are really really bad...”

Renly opened the bag and peered in. He laughed. Trust Loras to bring him peaches.

He grinned “All the way from Highgarden?”

“Not quite.” Loras admitted “To tell the truth I completely forgot until we got to Cider Hall, but I'm sure the Fossoways wont miss them...”

“You stole them!?”

“Well technically I guess... But the Fossoways wont mind. Garlan's just been betrothed to one of them. And besides I only took eight”

Renly glanced in the bag, only five. “What happened to the other three then?” He asked, curious.

“Well I ate one” he admitted “And then Penrose sat on a couple. He says it was an accident but personally I have my doubts.”

Renly couldn't help but laugh. He rather enjoyed the feud that Loras and Penrose seemed to be engaged in, even if it did leave him stuck in the middle between the two of them.

“It's surprisingly difficult transporting fruit by horseback” Loras insisted “You should appreciate the effort it took to get these to you. First I had to steal them, and then I had to hide them from Garlan so he wouldn't know that I'd stolen from his betrothed's house, and then I had to protect them from Penrose's backside. Surely you have to appreciate the effort”

Renly continued chuckling “I'm not sure I should be condoning theft, but yes I definitely appreciate your efforts Loras!” He leant over to ruffle the younger boy's hair, rather pleased that Loras had evidently thought of him while he'd been away.

“Anyway let's not stay in here. I can tell you all about my trip outside, in the sunshine.” Loras grabbed Renly's hand and pulled him out of bed, going to his wardrobe and chucking clothes at him. “Get changed.” he ordered.

Renly did as he was told, sighing dramatically. How did it happen that his squire was the one giving him orders now. That was not how this relationship was supposed to work.

..........................................

There was barely a cloud in the sky as they wandered down through the courtyard, aimlessly following the path that would lead them out of Storm's End. Renly smiled, glad things were back to normal. He felt more content than he had in months. The sunshine was warm on his face, and Loras was at his side.

They stopped just beyond the gates, Renly sitting down in the shade of a large chestnut tree that grew a few hundred yards outside the castle walls. It was a marvellous specimen of a tree, tall with sturdy branches that could withstand the raging winds that often swept over the land off Shipbreaker bay. Renly had been told once that the tree had stood since before the demise of the last Storm King several thousand years ago. It sounded rather like an unlikely tale to him, but still, he liked to believe that it was true. He had a vague memory of gathering chestnuts from underneath its boughs with Maester Cressen when he'd been very young. He lay back, reminiscing about the brief few years he'd enjoyed before Robert's rebellion had stolen his childhood from him. He had not collected chestnuts since before the siege and before Stannis had taken Maester Cressen from him. Renly sighed, he had loved that kindly old man.

Loras had not joined him on the grass like he had expected him to.

Glancing up, it seemed that Loras had other ideas in mind. He was staring up at the tree, and Renly could see him mentally working out the best way to go about climbing it.

Sure enough he turned to Renly. “Want to climb it?” He asked, grinning.  
,  
Renly laughed. Loras could be very predictable sometimes. Or maybe he just knew him that little bit too well.

“Why not” Renly agreed cheerfully. He supposed really that he was probably past the age where it was at all dignified to climb trees, but seeing as he'd never had anyone to join him in such activities when he was younger, he was not going to pass up the opportunity now.

Still laughing he got to his feet and pulled himself up on to the lowest branch, admiring how little it bent under his weight.

Loras followed up after him, pulling himself up onto the branch almost effortlessly. Renly was rather surprised by the sheer amount of strength Loras seemed to have for someone so slender. Indeed he seemed to have filled out slightly during his stay at Highgarden, no doubt as a result of training with his brother who Loras told him was unrivalled with a sword.

Smiles on their faces, they both climbed higher and higher up into the tree, ducking branches and pushing themselves through leaves until Renly found what looked like it might be a relatively comfortable branch to sit on.

Swinging one leg over the branch, he settled himself against the trunk, Loras joining him further along the branch. The branch was narrower there but it seemed to bear Loras' weight with ease. It no doubt helped that Loras probably weighed next to nothing Renly thought.

“So how was Highgarden?” He asked, leaning lazily back against the trunk.

“Good.” Loras answered “Just how I remembered it.”

“And Willas?”

Loras frowned “He'll never joust again.” he said rather sadly “But he insists that he doesn't mind. To be fair to him, he's probably telling the truth. He always was much more interested in books than anything else. I think he probably only jousted in the first place to please my father. Regardless I will still tear that Oberyn limb from limb if I ever lay eyes on him.”

Renly didn't doubt it judging from the bitter note in Loras' voice “Do I take it that we are going to have yet another war between the Reach and Dorne?” He teased, trying to lighten the tone. “My brother wont be pleased!”

Loras rolled his eyes “If I had my way there would be. But Willas is too forgiving. He says he doesn't bear him any ill will.”

“Well it was an accident wasn't it?”

“He claims it was. But we all know his reputation. No one concocts lies like the red viper of Dorne.”

Renly smiled. He was going to point out the lack of motivation for injuring Willas, but he didn't much fancy setting off Loras' temper. so he decided to change the subject.

“And Margaery?” Renly's words seemed to have the desired effect. The anger went out of Loras' eyes instantly, and his expression softened.

“As well as ever” he was smiling again “It was a lovely surprise when she came to meet me at Bitterbridge. She's grown a lot and she seems much more a young lady than a girl now, but she's still the same Margaery I always knew.”

“Penrose tells me she's beautiful” Renly confided.

Loras nodded, before raising an eyebrow “What was Penrose doing leering at my sister?” He demanded indignantly. “I always knew he was a bad sort” he added under his breath.

Renly laughed “You know Loras, you should be nicer to Penrose. Despite the fact that you drive him up the wall, he's surprisingly fond of you.”

“It's my charm” he said, smiling lazily up at Renly, curls falling over his eyes.

Renly grinned. He didn't doubt it.

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, Renly watching the leaves dancing in the breeze. A few chestnuts were already growing on the branches, and Renly made a mental note to gather them up when the time was right. They were nice cooked in the ovens he remembered. Even Stannis had enjoyed the roasted chestnuts that Brella had used to make.

“You know, apparently Stannis found a hawk round about here once.” he said absent-mindedly to Loras after a few moments.

Loras looked at him curiously.

“mm hmm it was injured and they say that he nursed it back to health.”

“From what you've told me about him, your brother doesn't sound like the sort to be taking in injured animals.” Loras laughed. “Sounds more like the sort of thing Willas would do.”

“To be honest I can't imagine it either really. But the older servants insist that he did. It was a goshawk and he named it Proudwing. He tried to train it but it never flew higher than this tree. It would only fly to to the lower branches and back again no matter how hard he coaxed it. Apparently Robert laughed at him, and called it Weakwing instead.”

“And what happened to it?” Loras asked.

“You know what” he said looking up at Loras “I really don't know what happened to it. Or if it even happened at all. It's probably just a tale made up by servants who have taken one too many trips down memory lane.”

Renly glanced down at the ground, trying to imagine Stannis nursing an injured bird back to health. It certainly didn't sound like the Stannis he knew. The Stannis he knew was cold and uncaring. He had cared for Renly, but out of duty not affection. Perhaps the tale was made up after all Renly mused. Servants were always making up tall tales.

.....................................................

The sun was entirely gone by the time they returned to the castle. Renly had remembered to tell Loras about the Tourney that he had began organising in his absence. As he had expected, Loras had been excited. He was too young to compete and he had accepted this with surprisingly good grace. He would enjoy watching and helping Renly prepare like any squire should he had said.

They were still discussing the plans when reached Renly's chambers, Loras flopping down on the bed lazily. Renly smiled at him as he sat himself down at the table, running his hands over the smooth mahogany.

“I was going to send out the invitations tomorrow Loras. I've had Brella write letters to all of the smaller lords, but I thought I should do the great houses personally. “ He reached for his quill and the pot of ink. Before putting pen to paper however, he grinned, having a sudden thought “You know Loras, maybe you should do it, seeing as before you left you were complaining about how little you actually do as my squire!”

Loras rolled his eyes but dutifully sat up and came to join him at the table. “This wasn't quite what I had in mind” he muttered under his breath. “But if you insist my lord” he sighed, smiling rather insolently up at Renly. “Who do you want me to write to?” he asked.

“Hmm lets see” Renly ran through the great houses in his mind “Well the Tullys, the Arryns, your family of course. We should probably invite the Starks too even if we know they wont come... I'll write to Robert and Stannis myself” He paused, before grimacing “and let's not forget the Lannisters either... We wouldn't want to slight the great Tywin would we!”

Loras laughed, writing down the list. His hand was just as Renly had expected it to be, elegant with no traces of the ink smudging. “My family probably wont come either” he said as he wrote down the Starks, a note of disappointment in his voice “Willas wont be able to travel by then, and there's no way they'd go off to a tourney and leave him.”

Renly nodded. “That's a shame, but invite them anyway.”

Renly left him to it, crossing the room to look out of the window. He was sure he'd forgotten somebody. Pacing slightly he racked his brain. He had left out the Greyjoys on purpose. They would probably consider it a slight to be invited to such a frivolous thing as a Tourney, and besides he didn't much fancy the raping and pillaging that the Iron Islanders tended to bring with them. Brella was taking care of all the lesser lords. Surely that constituted everyone. And yet he was still sure that one of the houses had slipped his mind.

He sighed as it dawned on him. “Oh and of course I forgot the Martells!”

Loras dropped his quill in horror. “I will never forgive you if you make me write to the snake that crippled my brother” He said, eyes flashing daggers at Renly.

Renly smiled “Don't worry I'm not going to force you to write to Prince Oberyn. Its Prince Doran that I'm asking you to write to, not his more volatile brother.” He paused, looking imploringly at Loras. “I know how you feel about the Martells Loras. But I can't not invite them.”

“Fine. If you insist” Loras did not look happy, but he did as he was told for once, writing an invitation for Prince Doran and his family. Renly watched over his shoulder as he wrote, making sure that Loras didn't write anything incredibly rude that he hoped Renly wouldn't see. The handwriting was slightly less neat than the others had been Renly noted, but it was at least devoid of anything offensive.

Loras glared up at him when he'd finished, shooting the invitation he'd just written a look of pure disgust. “I hope they don't come.”

“They wont” Renly laid a hand on Loras' shoulder. “They say Prince Doran has trouble walking these days. There's no way he's travelling through the Red Mountains for a tourney” Prince Oberyn might though he thought rather guiltily. Loras would not be happy to say the least. Sighing though, Renly pushed the thought aside. They would cross that bridge when and if they came to it.


	12. Chapter 12

It really did seem to be the height of summer Renly thought as he tossed and turned in his bed, trying desperately to get to sleep despite the intense heat. He sighed. The hot weather showed no signs of passing, and even at night Renly's chambers felt like a furnace. Dawn was already on the horizon by the time Renly fell into a fitful sleep.

It seemed like he'd only just drifted off when he was rudely awakened, Loras tugging on his arm like he often did in the mornings, calling his name.

Renly groaned and rolled over. There was no way he was getting up quite yet. He was exhausted and the only thing he wanted to do right now was go back to sleep. Preferably for a long time.

Loras however was annoyingly persistent, laughing as he did his best to drag Renly forcefully out of the bed. Renly hugged his pillow tightly as he tried to resist his squire's efforts. It was quite easy it seemed, he was much heavier than Loras, and without his cooperation, Loras had very little chance of dragging him forcefully anywhere.

Renly smirked into his pillow when Loras eventually let go, seemingly thinking it a lost cause. Indeed shortly after he felt the bed dip slightly as Loras presumably sat himself down on the end.

Renly sighed contentedly, glad that Loras seemed to have given up. Letting go of his pillow, he was just getting comfortable when Loras spoke.

“I thought you were supposed to meeting with Penrose and Brella this morning to go through the arrangements for the Tourney.” Loras stated. He had changed tack, trying to reason with Renly to get him out of bed, hoping words would move him where Loras' strength couldn't. “You do remember don't you?”

Renly did remember. He just didn't care that much. He was too tired to care.

“Just let me sleep” He yawned, rolling over.

He heard Loras sigh dramatically, before the door clicked shut softly. Renly smiled sleepily. It seemed Loras had lost patience and given up. Stretching out, and trying to ignore the stifling heat, he shut his eyes to go back to sleep.

He fell asleep almost immediately, dreaming of the cool snows of Winterfell. He was standing on the edge of a great snow bank, Loras at his side, mustering up the courage to jump into it when he suddenly got a face full of snow.

Spluttering, he shot up in bed, icy water running down his neck. Glancing around him in shock, his eyes fell upon Loras, smiling innocently, as he held a now empty bucket in his hands.

“What in the seven hells!” Renly exclaimed, the water dripping from his hair into his eyes.

Loras shrugged “As your squire, it's my duty to get you up in the morning”

“Yes but not like that!”

“To be fair I did try everything else first.” He grinned “And besides I thought you might like to cool down on such a hot morning. I went specially to the well to find you come cold water.”

Groaning, he dragged himself out of bed reluctantly and got himself dressed. He sighed as he rubbed his hair roughly with a cloth, trying to get at least some of the water out. It seemed Loras had won this particular battle.

..........................................................

Entering the solar, it seemed that Penrose and Brella were indeed waiting for him, a pile of letters on the table in front of them.

Smiling sheepishly at them, he apologised for his lateness and took a seat beside Brella, deliberately ignoring Penrose's curious glance at the water that was still dripping from Renly's hair. Instead he turned his attention to the letters in front of him.

Ravens had been flooding in all week from great and small lords alike but Renly had not had the time to sort through them until now.

Opening the first he wasn't surprised to see that it was from Stannis, his ever efficient brother informing him that while the King and his household would be travelling down for the tourney, he himself would be staying behind. Renly couldn’t help but laugh. Most men would have at least feigned disappointment that they couldn't make it, and yet Stannis was not most men. He never wrote anything that he didn't mean, and Renly knew that he wouldn't be the least bit sorry that he wouldn't be coming to the tourney.

The second was from Jon Arryn and Renly was surprised to read that he would be attending, along with his lady wife and their young son. Renly guessed that explained why Stannis was not coming. With most of Robert's household and Jon Arryn vacating the capital, someone vaguely competent would have to be left behind to run the realm.

The Tullys too would be coming, or at least Edmure and his uncle whom they called the Blackfish would be, as would several of their bannermen. Renly sighed, he wasn't overly fond of the Freys whose lord had a reputation for being difficult and proud, and yet he couldn't exactly tell them not to come.

Opening a letter sealed with a red lion, Renly was glad that Lord Tywin seemed to feel the journey too far to vacate Casterly rock for. This was indeed a blessing, even if they would still have to deal with all three of his children. Cersei would of course be accompanying Robert, as would Jaime as part of the Kingsguard. Renly had never met the third Lannister, but he had heard rumours of his betting and gambling, and did not doubt that the imp would also be in tow.

Highgarden surprised him. As Loras had said he would, Lord Mace had indeed written his condolences that he would not be able to make it. He had had gone on to say however that his son Garlan would be delighted to attend as he would be accompanying the Fossoways and his betrothed. Renly smiled. Loras would be pleased, and he was very much looking forward to meeting at least one of Loras' family.

The Starks however did not surprise him. As Renly had known full well he would, Lord Eddard had politely declined the offer. Renly couldn't blame him really. It was over a months ride from Winterfell, hardly worth undertaking for a tourney.

Prince Doran also declined, citing prior engagements. Renly read that letter curiously. He had heard many rumours of the Prince's deteriorating strength and yet the letter made no mention of it. Renly sighed however as he read on. It seemed that Prince Doran's brother on the other hand would be more than happy to attend. Renly shared a glance with Penrose. He dreaded having to tell Loras that news.

Coming to the end of the pile. he was glad to see that Penrose had already dealt with all of the replies from his bannermen and the lesser lords. He and Brella had already made a list of those that had replied and Renly was glad to see that many of them would be attending.

“It's going to be a large Tourney” Renly said, smiling at Penrose “Will we be able to accommodate everyone?”

“Well all the men that are taking part can camp below the walls as happens as most Tourneys” Penrose said “The ladies and older lords will however need rooms in the castle.”

Brella turned to him “We'll of course need to ensure that the King's chambers are sufficiently grand. I was thinking that we should put them in the late Lord Steffon and Lady Cassana's chambers.”

Renly contemplated this. He wasn't sure how Robert would feel about staying in his dead parents' old rooms. He might be happier Renly thought staying in what had been his own chambers. They were still empty, almost as he had left them. They were not quite as grand as his parents' chambers, but they had been his.

“I think Robert would be happier in his old rooms” he said confidently.

“But my lord, those chambers have no adjoining ones for the Queen?” Brella seemed concerned.

“And I should imagine they'll both be happier for it!” Laughing, Renly got up, leaving Penrose and Brella to work out the finer details without him. The remaining lords and ladies should be easy enough to sort out he reckoned.

That all over and done with, Renly wandered down to the courtyard to seek out Loras who would just be finishing up training for the morning. He had pondered going back to bed, but found he no longer felt tired. Besides he didn't think his bed would have dried yet despite the heat.

Approaching the training yard, he stood watching the squires for a while. They were just packing away, the master at arms shouting criticism at them as usual. Sighing, Renly supposed he ought to start getting some practice of his own in before the Tourney. His skills were probably getting rather rusty. Perhaps he would ask the master at arms now he thought. Today was as good a day as any to start practising.

Forgetting that he was still supposedly irritated at his squire for rudely awakening him that morning, he gave Loras a grin before going over to the master at arms.

“My lord” The master at arms greeted him amiably “What brings you down here today?”

“I mean to practice jousting in the afternoon” Renly said, grinning when he saw the smile spread across the usually sombre face. “I'm out of practice, and I was hoping you would be able to advise me”

“Aye I'd be glad to.” He smiled, pleased that Renly was taking an interest. “There are several knights among your guard that will also be competing. Perhaps you could all practise together this afternoon?”

“Sounds like a plan. I'll come down again in the afternoon then” He smiled and headed over to Loras. He'd decided he couldn't be bothered to be angry at him.

“What are you doing here?” Loras asked, curious.

“Nice to see you too!” Renly greeted, grinning at him.

Loras snorted “It's just that you don't usually come down here is all.”

“Well seeing as this Tourney is fast coming up, I felt it necessary to get some practice in so that I'm not completely humiliated in it. The master at arms is going to help me refresh my memory this afternoon”

“Can I come watch?” As ever, Loras' eyes lit up whenever jousting was mentioned.

Renly laughed “I've half a mind to say no after that little stunt you pulled this morning. But of course you can. I'm surprised you even bothered asking to be honest. Have I ever refused you anything Loras?”

“Well no, but it was only polite to ask”

It was Renly's turn to snort. “You? Polite? Don't make me laugh Loras.”

Loras frowned “I can be very polite when I want to.”

“I don't doubt it!” Renly laughed “You Highgardeners seem to have a way with courtesy when it suits you.”

Loras rolled his eyes, shoving Renly playfully in protest. Renly pushed him back, slightly harder than he usually would. The ice cold water still lingered in his mind and besides he reckoned that Loras could be doing with being put in his place at least once every now and again.

.....................................................

Renly soon regretted having chosen such a hot day to practice jousting. His armour was uncomfortable in the intense heat and the weight of it felt rather unfamiliar as Loras helped him mount his horse in the courtyard. It had been quite a long time since he'd worn it he thought. Too long perhaps.

Leaving Loras sitting lazily on the fence at the edge of the yard, he headed over to where the master at arms was already standing with the other knights.

Lance held firmly in his right hand, he listened intently to what the master at arms was saying as he tried to instruct Renly and three of the younger knights of Storm's End on the finer points of jousting. Glancing sideways at his companions for the day, Renly could see that one of the young knights was rather edgy. The upcoming tourney would be his first Renly knew and was probably anxious to prove his worth. Renly himself had already ridden in several tourneys, but not for over a year now. He could definitely do with brushing up on his skills before entering the lists he thought.

Turning his horse about, he tried to remember everything the master at arms had said as he pushed his horse into a gallop, trying to keep his arm steady as he aimed his lance at the knight charging towards him.

Renly braced himself for the impact, pain shooting up his arm as he collided with his opponent, the noise of lance on armour deafening. His opponent's lance had missed him entirely Renly was pleased to note, yet his aim had not been much better. He had only managed to hit the knight rather harmlessly on the shoulder, not even hard enough to crack the lance.

Slowing down to a walk, Renly grimaced. He had forgotten quite how hard the impact jarred his arm when jousting.

“Not bad” The master at arms called to both of them. “Neither of your aims were true though. We'll go through what you did wrong in a moment after we've seen the other two have a go.”

Renly smiled, watching the remaining two knights prepare before flipping up his visor and steering his mount towards Loras who was still sitting on the fence.

“How did it look?” He asked when he reached him. The master at arms would tell him later how he should improve, but he knew that Loras would be pleased to be asked.

“It wasn't bad” Loras shrugged. “You made quite a few easily avoidable mistakes though.”

Renly laughed “Like what?”

He sighed “Well for one you took too long to get into a gallop which didn't give you enough time to get into a decent rhythm. And you didn't couch your lance enough. You need to hold it much closer to your body, otherwise you can't put enough force behind it. Besides it hurts like hell if you do it the way you just did.”

Renly grinned, he didn't really want to admit quite how sore his arm felt right now. “Anything else you'd like to criticise me on?”

Loras laughed. “Well if you're asking... You tilted your lance way too late, your aim was way off and I'm surprised you hit him at all with that angle. It was much too high. Next time you want to get your horse moving quicker, start tilting your lance as early as possible and angle it much lower than you did last time. While you're at it, keep your eyes forward instead of looking at your opponent. He's moving way too fast for you to track him properly and it just unbalances you if you try”

“You can tell an awful lot from just watching one joust!” Renly said, rather sceptical. He wondered if the master at arms would agree with Loras' criticisms.

Loras just shrugged and Renly headed back over to the master at arms who was frowning at him.

“I see your squire has been educating you” He said, face grim.

Renly grinned “Is that a bad thing? He had a tremendous amount to say!” He related all that Loras had said.

The master at arms sighed and was silent for a while.“Well his advice is not misplaced.” He said eventually.“I admit that the boy certainly knows what he's talking about. He could probably unhorse the lot of you with his eyes closed. That's not the problem my lord. The problem is that he knows it.”

Renly laughed“Well we have to allow Loras his faults!”

The master at arms did not laugh “There are dangers in being too good too young my lord. It makes a man arrogant. And rash. It does no knight any good to believe he is invincible.”

Renly just smiled “I'm sure Loras will turn out just fine.” he insisted, turning his horse around to ride once more at his opponent.


	13. Chapter 13

Renly had forgotten quite how much work went into hosting a tourney. Life at Storm's End had been unbelievably hectic for the past week, the whole castle busying itself making the last minute arrangements for what would be the biggest tourney the Stormlands had hosted in over a decade. The tourney ground had been cleared, the stands set up, and huge pavilions erected, draped in the Baratheon colours. Maids scurried down every corridor making the final touches to the guest chambers for the lords and ladies that would be flooding in over the next few days, and pages hurried back and forth carrying in huge casks of wine that had arrived the day before from Dorne. Renly was determined that the feast following the tourney would be the biggest and best that the castle had ever seen, Renly refused to do anything by half measures and so he had made sure to order the finest Dornish wine available and see that the tables were laden with the most exotic fruit Highgarden had to offer.

Now two days before the tourney would begin, Renly was walking about the castle, making sure that all their hard work had paid off. Indeed everything seemed perfect. The corridors had been swept spotless and even the chambers for the lesser lords were exquisitely dressed. Renly was just stopping to help a maid pick up a bundle of sheets she had dropped when a page came running down the corridor, feet clattering on the stone floor.

The boy stopped as soon as he saw Renly, leaning against the wall to catch his breath for a moment. “The King my lord” he eventually managed to get out in between gasps “His Grace is but a league from the gates”

Renly grinned and thanked the boy, who swelled with pride. He had evidently sprinted the entire way from the gates just to tell him that.

Thinking he ought to head down to the courtyard soon, he handed the dropped sheets back to the maid, who hurriedly took them, blushing furiously as her hands briefly brushed against his. Renly smiled at her, used by now to how some of the maids would giggle and blush in his presence. He sighed, unfortunately smiles seemed to be all they would ever get.

He stood watching her for a while as she hurried back down the corridor with her newly assembled bundle balancing precariously in her arms. She was an pretty girl, her body shapely with a figure any lady would envy. Renly followed her with his gaze, wondering whether the sight of her would stir anything in him if he stared at her long enough.

Soon however she disappeared around the corner, and Renly sighed. It seemed a pointless venture anyway. Giving up, he went to find Loras instead. He couldn't face welcoming the entire royal household on his own.

…..............................................................................

Flanked now by Penrose and Loras, Renly made his way down to the courtyard to await Robert's arrival. The King's banner was now visible just beyond the castle's outer gates, the huge procession making its way slowly but surely along the road, the royal wheelhouse leading the party.

Eventually the wheelhouse ground to a halt at the end of the courtyard, the knights of the Kingsguard following close behind, their white cloaks billowing out behind them in the strong wind. Jaime Lannister stood out like a sore thumb though Renly thought, his armour a brilliant gold underneath the white of the Kingsguard.

The Kingslayer smirked slightly as he dismounted and strode over to the wheelhouse, opening the door with a flourish. Renly could see that he was trying not to laugh as Robert almost stumbled out of it, his queen following much more elegantly behind him, taking her brother's hand as she stepped daintily out.

Renly headed over to them. It had been over two years since their last meeting, and Renly noted that his brother seemed to have gained even more weight since then. No-one had been exaggerating when they had told him quite how fat the King had recently become. Still, Robert seemed pleased to see him.

“RENLY!” he boomed, embracing him roughly “Gods you've grown. you're practically my size now!”

“Perhaps in height my dear brother, but hopefully not yet in girth!” Renly replied, laughing easily. To the Queen's evident disgust Robert had laughed back, conceding that Renly had a point.

“What can I say Renly, a Kings has to eat! And drink!” Robert said, taking another swig from his flagon as if to prove his point.

It was hardly necessary Renly thought. The point didn't need to be proved in the slightest. It was barely noon and Robert already seemed to be rather unsteady on his feet, his words slurring ever so slightly if you listened closely.

“Your grace” Renly moved to greet the Queen, still stunningly beautiful even after bearing three children. “I hope you find Storm's End to your pleasing” He smiled warmly at her but she seemed unmoved by his charm, merely thanking him rather coldly as her handmaidens ushered her children out of the wheelhouse.

Crown Prince Joffrey descended first, a blonde boy of eight, much grown since Renly had last seen him. He had the same look of disdain on his face that his mother wore so well and seemed every bit the sort of child that Stannis had warned him he was in his letters.

“Lord Renly” He drawled, almost sneering. Renly had almost laughed in surprise. He might be a relatively young lord but he wasn't overly in the habit of being looked down on by eight year old boys quite yet, even if they were princes. Thankfully, the sight of the Crown Prince's sworn shield looming behind the young boy was enough to stifle any laughter that might have escaped. Instead Renly had to suppress the urge to shudder. He was a wreck of a man Renly thought, as hideous as Jaime Lannister was comely. The left side of his face was a mass of twisted scar and raw flesh, liquid oozing from between the cracks, a hint of bone visible near his jaw. Renly tried not to stare. No wonder Prince Joffrey seemed overly sure of himself he thought, with a man such as that at his side no-one would ever dare to cross him.

Prince Joffrey's sister however seemed as delightful as her brother was not. She skipped over to Renly, and to her mother's obvious disapproval put her arms around his legs, calling him uncle Renly. Renly laughed and picked her up. She couldn't possibly remember him he thought, she'd been barely two when he last saw her but perhaps Robert had reminded her who he was. Her younger brother followed after her, a small meek boy of three, who gave Renly a shy smile before his mother swept him away.

Putting Myrcella down, he patted her curls as maids appeared to escort the royal household to their chambers. The little princess scurried to her mother's side as they prepared to head up to the castle. Such a shame Renly mused, a lovely girl like that having Cersei Lannister as a mother.

“Renly?” Loras' voice brought him out of his thoughts. “Don't take this the wrong way alright?”

“Don't take what the wrong way?” Renly turned to him, confused.

“Well... It's just I can see why everyone at Storm's End says you look so much like your brother”

Renly glanced over to the King. His brother was sharing a crude joke with one of the maids, his hands sliding around her waist. His flabby bearded face was already rather ruddy, and his lips stained with wine. Renly grimaced. “Thanks Loras”

Loras just laughed. “But it's true! He may be slightly larger than you... and perhaps a little, well.. less nicely turned out, but you do strongly resemble each other! You'll have to show me a portrait some time of when he was your age.”

Renly laughed, rolling his eyes at him before turning to follow the royal household indoors. The rest of the Kingsguard had now dismounted and Renly found himself walking beside Barristan Selmy, the Lord Commander of Robert's guard.

Renly smiled at him. He had always had great respect for this particular knight of the Kingsguard. He seemed as honourable and fair as Jaime Lannister was treacherous. Glancing sideways at Loras, even his usually brazen squire seemed slightly in awe of him.

“Lord Renly” Ser Barristan inclined his head respectfully “You've grown into quite the young man it seems. You''re the spitting image of Robert as he was when he fought on the Trident”

“So I'm told” Renly laughed “The similarities stop there though I'm afraid. I may well have his look but unfortunately I seem to be greatly lacking his prowess in battle.”

Ser Barristan smiled “Indeed your brother certainly was a fearsome warrior” He looked almost wistful for a moment, as if back in a now distant past. “Rhaegar Targaryen never stood a chance.”

Renly didn't really know what to say to that. So he just smiled back and they walked in a comfortable silence up to the castle, Loras at his heels.

......................................................

Renly was glad when he was finally able to retire to his chambers in the evening. Dinner had been an intimate affair, consisting only of the King and Queen's immediate family. It had not been a particularly enjoyable.

Somehow he'd managed to end up sat between his brother and the Kingslayer. He had been bored stiff. Robert had talked only of war and the good old days, his words becoming more and more frenzied as consumed flagon after flagon of wine whilst Jaime Lannister had sat there looking on, a smirk on his handsome face as he occasionally made what Renly took to be very subtle jibes at his brother. Robert however had been too drunk to notice.

The crown prince had not grown on him either. Renly had noticed him slyly kicking his younger brother under the table several times throughout the meal. Eventually Tommen had cried, inciting Cersei to declare that the hour was too late for her youngest children. She had swiftly ordered both Tommen and Myrcella taken up to their chambers. Renly had almost wished he were a child, so that he too could leave too and go to bed. He was already sick of thinly veiled insults that the King and Queen kept making at each other and it had only been several hours. Renly had begun to think now that suggesting Robert marry Cersei had been one of Jon Arryn's less sensible ideas.

He had excused himself as soon as was politely possible, looking forward to the other guests arriving on the morrow which would hopefully diffuse some of the tension. He didn't think he could face having to make any more small talk with the Lannisters.

There had been no sign of the third Lannister though Renly had noted. He had not spotted the imp among the Kings household that afternoon and he hadn't appeared for dinner either. Perhaps he would be arriving tomorrow with the other guests Renly mused.

His thought were interrupted then by a soft knock at the door. He knew immediately who it was. He smiled and bade Loras enter. He could really do with some decent company after that ordeal of a dinner he thought and was glad when Loras came to sit beside him on the bed. He had evidently just had a bath Renly thought, his hair was still wet, curls slightly looser under the weight of the water./

Loras took one look at Renly's face and grinned. “How bad was it?” He asked.

“Terrible” Renly collapsed back against his pillows, sighing dramatically.

“How so?” Loras shifted to face him, lying down and propping himself up on his elbow.

“The King and Queen seem to forever be at each other's throats.” Renly complained “I can only feel sorry for the Kingsguard. Just the thought of having to put up with that every day makes me want to lock myself in my chambers and never come out again.”

Loras laughed “I imagine it would be worth it though, to be a member of the Kingsguard.”

Renly smiled “You know, when I was very young, I used to imagine that I was in the Kingsguard. Apparently I used to run around wearing this piece of white cloth I'd found as a cloak. I must have looked ridiculous”

Loras looked up at Renly “I can well imagine it.” he said, smiling back at him.

“Have you never fancied it Loras? Joining the Kingsguard I mean? Not running around in a pretend white cloak.”

“Of course I have.” Loras shrugged. “Hasn't everyone? They're the elite of the elite.”

“They have to give up a lot though” Renly said, sighing. “Lands, children, marriage. Do you think it would be worth it?”

“I don't think I would mind all that much.” Loras said softly, looking up at Renly with an intensity that made Renly feel strangely uncomfortable all of a sudden. He found he had to look away.

He made himself take a deep breath, the easy smiles that came so naturally to Renly returning as quickly as they had disappeared. “You're still young Loras, you'll change your mind.” He laughed. “You don't know what you'd be giving up yet!”

Loras snorted “You're as bad as Penrose sometimes Renly. I'm hardly a child. I'll be ten and three before all that long. Which gives me a little over two years to replace Jaime Lannister as the youngest Kingsguard member ever.”

Renly laughed, not quite sure if he was joking or not. Knowing Loras it might have been said in all seriousness. He looked at him. “Don't tell me that you've got such an idea in your head now Loras? It's hardly at all achievable!”

“Why not?” Loras seemed slightly put out at Renly's lack of faith.“Although I guess on second thoughts, seeing as the Kingsguard serve for life, one of them would have to conveniently die in order to make room for me...”

Renly continued laughing. “Too true Loras. And all seven of them seem to be in perfectly good health! I can't see any among them dropping dead in the next two years!”

Loras sighed dramatically “Perhaps the Kingsguard is not for me then. It would hardly be worth giving up my freedom if I didn't even get to be the youngest ever. Would be a bit mediocre.”

Renly shook his head in exasperation. All this talk of the Kingsguard and yet not once had the notion that he wouldn't be good enough crossed Loras' mind. Loras seemed to have taken it for granted that he had the skill required. Smiling, Renly let out a soft sigh before leaning over to run his hand affectionately through Loras' hair. He really was unbelievable sometimes.


	14. Chapter 14

For once Renly managed to rise bright and early the next morning, well before Loras would usually come to wake him up. He dressed quickly, not lingering over what to wear as he usually did. The tourney would get under way on the morrow, and Renly was eager to meet all the arriving guests. 

Exiting his chambers and descending the stairs, he ran straight into Penrose, young Edric at his heels as always. He stopped to talk to him, noting that Penrose looked rather more strained than usual. Perhaps their new guests were getting to him Renly mused. Cersei and Robert were certainly getting to him. Edric on the other hand was grinning from ear to ear. 

“I was just looking for you” Penrose said to Renly wearily. “The Estermonts arrived just after dawn this morning, as did the Tullys and the Redwynes. I told them all that you'd receive them at dinner this evening. The Estermonts in particular are eager to see you. ” 

“Very good” Renly smiled. The majority of his own bannermen would be travelling up on the day of the Tourney itself but the Baratheons had particularly close ties with the Estermonts. That being so Renly had arranged for the members of his mother's house to be accommodated in Storm's End. 

“And a page has informed me that Fossoways have just arrived now.” He sounded exhausted Renly thought. “Loras' brother is among them I believe” 

“Why don't you get some rest Penrose” Renly suggested “It sounds like you've been up all night. I'll deal with the Fossoways.”

Penrose raised an eyebrow and Renly laughed. He knew that there was no way Penrose would go back to bed when there was so much to be done, but he thought he should suggest it anyway. 

“As you wish Renly. You take care of the Fossoways whilst I inform the kitchens of how many we'll be feeding tonight.” 

Renly smiled “That sounds like a plan.” He turned to his nephew, laughing “And may I ask why you are so happy this morning? You look like the never ending summer has come early!”

Edric bounced up and down on the spot happily before answering “My father just told me what a strapping young man I'm becoming. He said I looked just like you when you were my age!” He beamed proudly. “Isn't my father wonderful?”

Penrose rolled his eyes as Renly laughed. He was aware that Robert's behaviour towards Edric irked Penrose. He'd play the doting father to Edric on his occasional visits to Storm's End, but it was clear that he promptly forgot all about him as soon as he returned to Kings Landing. Even the extravagant gifts that were sent for the boy's name day were most likely sent by Varys or some other member of the small council. 

Renly on the other hand could relate to how Edric felt. He had first hand experience of worshipping Robert. He had adored his eldest brother as a young child, longing for Roberts rare visits from the Eyrie. Robert had used to pick him up and swing him around in his powerful arms until Renly had been so dizzy he couldn't stand. And Renly had used to beg him to tell him stories of his life at the Eyrie. Renly smiled, reminiscing. His brother had seemed so perfect back then and he had idolised him. He laughed remembering the way that his adoration had used to drive Stannis crazy. 

“Well it's true” He said, winking at Edric “You couldn't look like me and not be a strapping young man” He grinned at Penrose before continuing down the stairs to greet his guests. He could already hear the hum of conversation in the entrance hall below. 

Indeed when he entered the hall there was a small group milling about, all engaged in cheerful conversation. 

He smiled. It looked like Loras had already found his comrades from the Reach. He was standing chatting to who Renly assumed to be lord and lady Fossoway. He sighed, trying to remember their names. There were two branches of House Fossoway he knew. The red apples of New Barrel, and the Green apples of Cider Hall. Or was that the red apples of Cider Hall and the green apples of New Barrel? Renly couldn't remember. Whether the pair that Loras was talking to were of the red apple branch or the green apple branch Renly had no idea. He thought he recalled that Loras' aunt had married the Lord Fossoway of New Barrel. Perhaps it was this lord and lady Fossoway that Loras was with. 

Approaching them, he cursed himself for not paying more attention to Maester Jurne and Maester Cressen when they had tried to teach him the noble houses and their sigils. It simply wouldn't do to get his red and green apples mixed up. 

“Lord and Lady Fossoway.” He greeted. Two couples turned round. Still having no idea which was which, he simply tried to smile at all of them. 

“Let us kindly introduce our daughter, Leonette” One of the them said, beckoning a girl forward. She was very pretty Renly thought, dainty, with long brown hair and bright eyes. She curtseyed slightly to her head, her head bowed. 

“My lady” he said, kissing her hand. “It's a honour.” 

She smiled prettily at him, before retreating back to her family, taking her place beside a tall young man, handsome, with curly hair and the beginnings of a beard. He looked vaguely familiar and Renly suddenly recalled Loras telling him that his brother was engaged to a girl called Leonette. 

“And you must be Garlan” Renly said, grinning, glad that he could deduce the identity of at least one of the guests before him. “Loras has told me ever so much about you.”

“All favourable I hope!” Garlan laughed. 

Renly laughed back. “Of course. I've yet to hear Loras say a bad word about his family.” 

“You evidently haven't spoken to him about our grandmother then” Garlan jested, and Loras rolled his eyes, elbowing his brother in the ribs. 

Renly grinned. He got the feeling he was going to get on well with Garlan. He was but a year older than himself and seemed to have a good sense of humour. Loras, he knew, idolised him. 

“Loras tells me that you are a very skilled knight” Renly said “Will we get to see you in the lists tomorrow?” 

Garlan laughed, a friendly easy laugh. “No my lord. I do not hunger after glory like someone I know. “ He nudged Loras playfully. “Besides I think my father would have a turn if I rode in the lists so soon after our brother's fall.” 

“How is your brother?” Renly asked.

“Much better. He is walking now with some aid. And he is in good spirits.” 

“That's good to hear.” He smiled, before suddenly realising he'd forgotten the Fossoways. He turned back to them hurriedly. “How rude of me. You must be very tired from the road. Allow my guards to show you to your chambers.” 

The Fossoways thanked him kindly, and turned to their own servants, sorting out what would need to be taken up to their rooms. 

Renly was just about to turn back to Loras and Garlan when one of his guards managed to catch his attention. He glanced nervously at Renly, and beckoned him aside “My lord the red apple branch is being roomed in the keep and the green behind the sept. But which pair of Fossoways is which my lord?”

“I have absolutely no idea” Renly confessed, laughing whilst the guard looked rather alarmed. 

Turning back to his guests, Renly called Loras over, trying to sound casual. “Can I borrow you for a moment?”He asked.

Loras came to his side instantly, regarding him with curiosity. “What is it Renly?”

“I need you to point out to the guards which set of Fossoways is which” He said, his voice low so that the Fossoways wouldn't hear. 

“Well it's easy really, the green ones are-”

“Later Loras” He hissed “I don't want them to know that I don't know who's who.”

“Oh” Realisation dawned on Loras' face. He grinned and went over to the nervous guard, leaning up to whisper a few words in his ear. The guard looked relieved, and began to lead the Fossoways out of the hall. Renly smiled as he saw the young Leonette kiss Garlan on the cheek as she followed her family out of the hall. 

He was just about to ask Garlan about his betrothal when the castle doors swung open once more, and Penrose entered. He wore a smile on his face, but a rather forced one Renly thought.

“My lord.” He said, meeting Renly's eyes “Announcing the arrival of the Prince of Dorne.” 

Renly felt Loras stiffen beside him. Renly sighed. He could have done without Loras being present when Oberyn Martell arrived. He glanced at him to make sure he wasn't about to do anything rash but it seemed that Garlan had already had the same thought, placing a firm hand on his younger brother's shoulder. 

The prince had followed Penrose in, his gait confident, and a dark twinkle in his eyes. He was a tall man, slender but powerfully built, with lustrous black hair that fell to his shoulders. The red viper of Dorne they called him, and meeting him now, there certainly did seem something rather snakelike about those eyes, Renly thought. 

“Lord Renly” Oberyn regarded him long and hard, a small smile playing at his lips. “It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” 

Renly resisted the urge to squirm under his gaze. There was something mildly unsettling about this dornish Prince. 

“You're too kind” He said, forcing himself to smile at him. 

Prince Oberyn seemed then to notice Garlan standing beside Renly, and turned to him, mild surprised on his face. “I hope your brother is recovering?”

“Yes he is ” Garlan replied politely. He was smiling but it didn’t quite meet his eyes Renly thought. He wondered whether Garlan too blamed Oberyn for his brother's injury. If he did, he was very good at hiding it Renly thought.

“No thanks to you” Loras muttered under his breath. 

Prince Oberyn cocked his head slightly, a thin black eyebrow raised in mild amusement as he regarded Loras, looking him up and down as a snake might study its prey. 

Garlan hurriedly tried to rescue the situation.“Pray excuse my brother. He means no offence” 

Renly begged to differ. One look at Loras' face proved otherwise.

Oberyn however laughed. “None taken my little lordling. A snake saves its venom for more.. threatening targets..” There was a twinkle in Oberyn's dark eyes as he bent down slightly so that his face was in line with Loras' “So this must be the other rose” He murmured softly and to Renly's surprise he reached down to cup Loras' chin, a thin smile playing on his lips.“Very pretty” he commented after a moment “but perhaps with more thorns than the others...” 

Renly and Garlan looked on in a tense silence. For the moment Loras was simply staring at the Prince in disbelief, the expression on his face somewhere in between total shock and pure rage. 

In the end the rage won. His eyes full of anger, he pulled away violently from the Prince's touch, giving him a look of pure disgust before turning on his heel and storming out of the door. 

Garlan sighed, exasperated, and looked apologetically at Oberyn. “It appears my brother needs to learn some manners.”

Oberyn's eyes glinted, he was clearly amused. “It is is enough to know that your elder brother bears me no ill will” He said, eyes on the door that Loras had just left through. 

Garlan nodded and hurried after Loras, making his excuses to Renly and Oberyn. Renly assumed he was going to try and calm Loras down.

The door swung shut after him, leaving Renly alone with the prince and his fellow Dornishmen. He'd expected the atmosphere to be less tense now that Sunspear and Highgarden were no longer in the room together, but if anything, Renly felt even more uncomfortable. 

“I'm sorry if my squire offended you” He said, trying to diffuse the situation. 

“Ah so the little rose belongs to you does he?” Oberyn's eyes gleamed. 

Renly laughed rather nervously. Something about the prince put him on edge. “Yes Loras is currently in my service.” He said simply. “Anyway you must be tired. I will have my men show you to your pavilion” 

Oberyn smiled, and turned to follow one of Renly's guards out of the door, a hand on his own squire's shoulder.  
The squire was handsome Renly thought, probably of an age with himself, with a strong jaw and gleaming blue eyes. He was looking up at Oberyn with an expression that Renly couldn't quite decipher.

Letting his master move ahead of him, the boy turned those gleaming eyes on Renly now, looking him up and down. The boy's gaze seemed to bore into him, and Renly suddenly felt rather exposed. He had the distinct feeling that he was being sized up. He felt a flush creeping to his cheeks, and quickly turned away so as to hide his discomfort.


	15. Chapter 15

Renly breathed a sigh of relief as Oberyn Martell disappeared through the door, his blue eyed squire with him. He'd felt rather uneasy throughout that exchange to say the least. He was glad that the prince was heading down to the very far side of the tourney ground, as far away from the Tyrells as Renly could put him. And the Lannisters too, Renly recalled. In his haste to keep Oberyn away from Loras, he hadn't even considered the Lannisters when choosing where to place Oberyn Martell. Yet it was common knowledge that Oberyn laid the blame for his sister's murder at Tywin Lannister's feet and that he yearned for revenge. It may have been Gregor Clegane who carried out the atrocities but Renly had no doubt that the orders to kill Elia and her children had come from the mouth of Tywin Lannister himself. He didn't imagine however that Tywin's golden twins would agree. Yes it was definitely best that he kept Oberyn away from both the Lannisters and the Tyrells. 

Sighing, he contemplated following Garlan to Loras' chambers. Renly didn't doubt that Loras would still be furious. Loras' distaste for Dornishmen in general was no secret and he particularly loathed Oberyn Martell. If there was one thing that Renly had learnt about Loras from the whole sorry incident involving Willas, it was that Loras held grudges almost as bitterly as Stannis. 

He had just decided to seek his squire out and calm him down when Penrose re-entered, looking worried. Even Edric Storm looked a little bemused. 

“Renly” He said wearily. “Could you kindly explain to me quite why your squire has just stormed off to his room, slamming every door possible on the way, and looking like he wants to murder someone? What in the seven hells has gone on?”

Renly grinned sheepishly “Er.. well we may have had a slight provocation involving him and Oberyn Martell... But I think we've managed to smooth it over.”

“Good” Penrose said “He's not a man that you want to get on the wrong side of. And besides, Loras was alarming some of the guests”

Renly laughed “Everyone loves a bit of drama. Think of it as entertainment!”

Penrose rolled his eyes. “I don't think I've ever seen Loras so angry. It was a nice change for once that his moods weren't aimed at me.” 

Renly laughed “Admit it Penrose! You don't hate Loras all that much. And trust me, he doesn't hate you either. Secretly I expect he's rather fond of you.”

Penrose sighed “I've never claimed to hate Loras, my lord, I just find him exasperating. Surely you can see that.” 

Renly shrugged cheerfully. “Tell me Penrose. Did Loras seem very angry? Do you think I should go to him?” 

Penrose raised an eyebrow. “I'm sure the pair of you can survive at least a few minutes outside of each other's company.” he said dryly. “Last time I checked the two of you weren't joined at the hip.” He paused “Besides I need to borrow you my lord. The Arryns have just arrived in the courtyard. It's only proper that you're there to greet them.” 

Renly rolled his eyes. Penrose was forever admonishing him for his seeming inability to be separated from his squire. For the moment however it seemed that Loras would have to wait. Jon Arryn was the hand of the King and as such, merited a personal welcoming into Storm's End. Sighing, he followed Penrose dutifully out.

Jon Arryn was waiting patiently in the courtyard, helping his wife out of the wheelhouse whist she fussed over a small child that she held in her arms. It was crying incessantly despite her evident attempts to soothe it and Renly tried to remember if it were a boy or a girl. He hadn't seen Jon Arryn or his lady wife for years now, since he'd last been in Kings Landing in fact. Almost half a decade ago now. He had however heard the news that Lady Lysa had finally given birth to a child, after the misfortune to lose so many. 

He remembered Lady Arryn as being rather beautiful Renly thought, but watching her now with her child, it was plain that her looks had faded. She looked weary, her features drawn and her child clutched to her breast with such ferocity that Renly wondered if she feared he was about to take it from her. 

Jon Arryn however was smiling and looked just as Renly remembered him, albeit a fair bit older. He walked over to Renly, leaving his lady wife still fussing over the child.

“Renly” He embraced him lightly “My, how you've grown up. You were just a child when I saw you last.” He paused, looking Renly up and down almost proudly. “Has anyone ever told you-”

“-that I look just like Robert?” Renly finished his sentence for him, grinning.

Jon Arryn laughed “ The resemblance is uncanny. Robert was just a little younger than you are now when he was sent to foster at the Eyrie. It was just after the death of your parents. Such a tragedy...” 

He looked lost in memories for a few moments, and Renly wondered whether he was mourning the man his brother had used to be. Even from the rather limited time that he'd spent with his brother yesterday, Renly could see that Robert was a shadow of his former self. 

“Would you like me to show you to your chambers my lord? I imagine you must be tired from the road.” Renly asked, bringing Jon Arryn out of his thoughts.

Jon Arryn glanced back at his wife.“Perhaps that is best. Lysa will be happier when the child is safe indoors. Robert is a sweet boy... but sickly.” He sighed.“We were originally travelling with the King but the fast pace seemed to be hard on the poor child. We had to make several stops and let the royal party go on ahead of us. ”

The child was a boy then, evidently named after his brother. Renly smiled. “In that case let us get young Robert out of this wind. My Maester will be pleased to be at your service if you require anything.” Renly imagined that Lysa would have brought her own Maesters with her if the child was indeed as sickly as Jon Arryn had suggested, but he thought he should make the offer regardless. 

“You're too kind.” Jon Arryn took his his lady wife's arm, and guided her indoors, the child now suckling at her breast. Renly wondered how old he was. He was sure that he ought to be about two, but Lady Arryn seemed to treat the child as if he were a babe. 

He took his leave when they reached their chambers, thinking that they would want to settle in in peace. Or as much peace as could be had with the child still kicking up a racket Renly thought, the noise ringing through the corridor loudly. 

Renly was glad to walk away from it, finally free to go and find Loras. He went the long way round to his chambers, deliberately avoiding the part of the castle where the Queen was roomed. He could not be bothered with making small talk with the Lannisters. 

Reaching Loras' room, he knocked gently. 

He wasn't surprised when Garlan opened it. He'd assumed that Garlan would have remained with his brother. Glancing at Garlan's face, Renly thought he looked cheerful enough. Loras must have calmed down at least somewhat then he assumed.

“How is he?” He asked Garlan in hushed tones.

Garlan grinned “Fine, now that he's broken a few things” 

Renly looked round the room. Indeed it looked like Loras had smashed rather quite a lot of things in his rage. He laughed “That sounds like Loras!” 

“What are you two whispering about over there?” Loras asked indignantly from the bed. He sounded rather put out. 

“You” Renly said simply, grinning at him. 

Loras chucked a pillow at his head. Used to this sort of thing now from Loras, Renly dodged it, going to sit beside him on the bed. 

“I see you've calmed down. Penrose said you were causing quite the scene earlier!” 

“Can you blame me?”Loras rolled his eyebrows. “Who does that dornish snake think he is?” He muttered under his breath. 

Renly laughed. “Like him or not, Oberyn Martell is one of my guests here Loras, and as such you have to be nice to him. Otherwise I'll...” He trailed off, thinking of some king of punishment he could threaten Loras with to keep him in line. 

“Otherwise you'll what?” Loras sounded amused. 

“Otherwise I'll.. I'll...order you to spend every day helping Penrose. As his personal slave.”

“Is that really the best you can come up with?” 

“Hmm well let's see. I could send you away.” 

Loras just looked at him disdainfully, evidently not thinking this idea even worthy of a response. 

Renly raised an eyebrow “You don't think I'd do it?”

Loras scoffed “As if. You wouldn't last a day without me.” 

“That's not true!” Renly was indignant. “You're the most under-worked and unnecessary squire in the history of Westeros. Pray tell me Loras exactly what it is that I need you for?”

Loras smirked. “Well for one you'd never manage to get out of bed in the mornings without me. And besides, you'd die of boredom before long.” 

“Well maybe we'll find out wont we?” Renly's voice sounded petulant even to his own ears. 

“You'd never do it.” Loras stated evenly. 

“I would.” Renly shot back.

It was only then that Renly remembered Garlan was still in the room. 

He turned round, slightly embarrassed at the rather immature exchange he and Loras had just had. Indeed Garlan was still stood behind them, an expression of curious amusement on his face. He looked like he was fighting the urge to laugh Renly thought. 

Renly just grinned sheepishly at him.


	16. Chapter 16

Loras came early the next morning to Renly's chambers, bringing Renly's armour with him, ready to help Renly prepare for the tourney that would be starting later that day. It was new armour, silver plated steel that Renly had ordered specially made for the occasion. It looked splendid Renly thought as Loras brought it in. His squire had evidently polished until it shone almost as bright as the golden armour that Jaime Lannister seemed to favour.

Loras started at his feet, first fitting the sabatons and greaves before working upwards. Eventually the steel gorget was in place and Renly admired himself in the mirror before putting on his helm. The blacksmith of Storm's End had certainly done a very good job. He was very pleased with the end results.

“You'll have to wish me luck today” Renly said to Loras, removing his helm and laughing “There's more very accomplished knights riding today than I would have liked!”

Loras rolled his eyes. “Luck doesn't come into it. You should have worked harder.”

Renly just laughed “Well it's too late now. I can only hope that I don't face anyone too formidable in the first few tilts.”

Loras grinned “I wish I were old enough to take part. You wouldn't catch me praying for luck the morning before.”

Renly laid an armoured hand on his shoulder “You will be soon enough Loras. And I'm sure that when you are, you'll do well enough for the both of us”

“Of course I will” Loras said simply, as if it were obvious.

Renly didn't doubt it.

..............................................

They rode down together to the Tourney ground, accompanied by what seemed like most of the castle. Jon Arryn rode beside him, majestic despite his age on a bay mare. Robert and Cersei meanwhile led the procession in the royal litter, the small folk along the road cheering loudly as they passed. No matter how badly Robert ran the realm, Renly imagined that his brother would always be popular here. Most of the Stormlands smallfolk would still remember when Robert was their lord paramount Renly thought. Now he was their king and they loved him for it.

The welcome Robert got however was nothing compared to how the smallfolk received Renly. They went mad for him, the men shouting his name as the maids threw flowers under his horse's feet. He smiled at them, well aware that he was adored by the people of the Stormlands. It's no wonder Renly thought, considering that they were due to get Stannis as their lord paramount after Robert became king. Anyone would have been a more popular choice than Stannis Renly imagined. Though of course his irresistible charm and remarkable good looks could also have something to do with it Renly thought, laughing.

Jon Arryn turned to him, steady on his horse despite his age. “The small folk love you lord Renly.” He said warmly “It seems charm comes as easily to you as it does to Robert. He has always had a way of making friends even out of enemies. A useful talent you both seem to share.”

Renly laughed “You're too kind my lord. Perhaps charm runs in the family. Though that would only account for two out of the three of us.”

Jon Arryn smiled slightly “Stannis may not be as.. personable as Robert and yourself. But he has many other qualities that are just as valuable.” His voice was quiet.

“Like grinding his teeth?” A voice cut in from behind them.

Whipping round, Renly was surprised to see that it was Jaime Lannister who had spoken, riding alongside what Renly assumed could only be Tyrion Lannister, judging by the fact that he only sat four feet high on his pony. He must have arrived some time in the night then.

Renly turned to the imp. “You must be Lord Tyrion. I did not know you had arrived?”

“Was it my size that gave me away? Or perhaps my dashing good looks?” He flashed Renly a crooked grin.

Renly laughed “I trust you've been made comfortable at Storm's End?”

“Don't mind me” The dwarf said “I've found a remarkably comfortable bed in one of the nearby villages and both me and my sweet sister will sleep easier for it. A lovely establishment just on the edge of Bronzegate. Such charming hostesses...”

“You're referring to the local brothel” Renly laughed, catching on.

“Why? Do you know it?” His mismatched eyes twinkled with amusement “Even a man of my stature could do with recommendations. A man never knows what he's getting with these southern girls... Give me the whores of Lannisport any day.”

“Unfortunately I can't say I've paid all that many visits myself so any recommendations I could make would be very poor indeed.” Renly said, grinning.

“Ah forgive me. Of course you haven't.” He gestured up to Renly “I imagine a lord such as yourself must have the maids begging all the way from Dorne to Casterly Rock. Some of us however are not so fortunate. Alas I make do.”

Renly laughed. “You flatter me lord Tyrion”

The imp grinned. “Now pray excuse me, I fear it time that I reveal my presence to my sweet sister. I do know how she misses my company.” The imp's pony trotted off, the dwarf swaying slightly in the saddle.

Jaime laughed. “Send my regards!” He called after him before falling back in line with the rest of the Kingsguard.

The handsome Kingslayer and his misshapen brother made such an unlikely pair Renly thought as he watched the imp pick his way over to the royal litter, barely visible amidst the much taller knights and lords that surrounded him. Family indeed seemed an odd thing. It brought together the most unlikely individuals.

Loras brought his horse closer to Renly's own, leaning over slightly. “Renly? Can I ask you something?”

“You already have” Renly jested “Of course you can.”

“I was just curious as to whether it was true, what you said to the Lannister imp?”

“Which part?”

“The bit about how you haven't paid many visits to that establishment in Bronzegate.”

Renly laughed “If truth be told. I've never even set foot in that establishment Loras. Surely you'd have noticed if I went gallivanting around the Stormlands frequenting pleasure houses?”

Loras shrugged, grinning “True. But you were already ten and four by the time I arrived. It might have been that you used to.”

“Do I really strike you as the type Loras?” Renly asked, eyes sparkling with amusement. “I doubt very much that your older brothers go around frequenting brothels either.”

“You know I have no idea.” Loras laughed “I doubt it very much too, but then again I was only ten when I left Highgarden. It's not the sort of thing that gets brought up in casual conversation is it?”

“And yet we're having this conversation now” Renly said “On the road, in broad daylight.”

“That's true..” Loras looked up at him “But no-one's listening. I was just curious was all. You know some of the squires sneak out often to ride up there.”

Renly laughed “Have you never wanted to join them?”

“I've never really thought about it before to be honest” Loras said, shrugging. “But I guess thinking about it now, the idea doesn't really appeal to me. Don't you find it passing queer that men lower themselves to paying coin for such a thing?”

Renly grinned “I shouldn't worry Loras. I doubt very much that you will ever be forced to pay for such pleasures. As the imp said some men are rather more fortunate than others.”

Loras laughed “I'll take that as a compliment shall I?”

“It was meant as one” Renly smiled at him. “And don't play coy with me. I know full well that you know full well that you're as pretty as they come.”

Loras grinned “Well it's polite to at least pretend to be modest.”

“I don't dispute that.” Renly smiled “Just don't bother with me. I'm well aware of what you are. The good and the flaws alike.”

“And there are too many flaws to count!” Garlan rode up suddenly beside them, a grin on his face. “What is it that you two are talking about so secretly over here. Myself and Leonette are dying to know.”

Renly and Loras looked at each other before they both burst out laughing. Garlan watched them, amused.

Eventually Loras managed to stop laughing. “We were just trying to decide whether you and Willas were the sort who frequented brothels.” He said innocently, doing a very good job at keeping a straight face,Renly thought.

Garlan looked bemused. “What an odd choice of conversation topic! I had imagined that you'd both be excitedly discussing the tourney we've almost arrived at.”

“Well I'm sure you'd agree dear brother that this topic is far more interesting.” Loras said mildly, looking up at Garlan “Especially with dear Leonette here. I'm sure she'd be very interested in your answer.”

Garlan laughed. “Well fortunately for me she is unlikely to be offended by my answer. I'm surprised you even bothered posing the question. Willas and I were brought up to be nice young men. You were too. Which is why I still can't figure out how you turned out so insolent.”

Loras scowled and shoved his brother playfully. Garlan looked about to retaliate but he was forced to just roll his eyes for at that moment they had reached the tourney grounds.

Renly smiled as the crowds of small folk parted before them, allowing them to make their way to the stands.

Robert and Cersei took their seats in the centre, Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen at their sides, golden haired like their mother. The Kingsguard gathered about them, their white armour glinting in the sunlight and swords at their hips. All seven would be riding in the lists and all seven would be formidable opponents.

Taking his own seat, the most prominent after those of the immediate royal family, Renly surveyed the Tourney grounds. It was a sight to behold Renly thought. The smallfolk had turned out in force to watch and everywhere finely armoured knights and lords were milling about, waiting for their tilt to be called.

Renly was joined in the stands by some of the more noble guests. Garlan and Loras as sons of Highgarden were able to take the seats next to him, whilst the two Tullys and Tyrion Lannister took their places behind him, next to Jon Arryn and his lady wife. Renly was again glad that Prince Oberyn had been seated far away from here, on the other side of the Tourney grounds. It would not do to have him and the Lannisters exchanging pleasantries. The Lannister imp seemed to have a particularly sharp tongue Renly thought, not very unlike the Dornish prince himself. It would be best for all involved if the two did not meet.

He turned to the two Tullys behind him, one still of auburn hair and the other now greying. “My lords Tully” He greeted “I am pleased to make your acquaintance.” He spoke now to the older man. “Ser Brynden I have heard great tales of your valour in the War of the Ninepenny Kings. My brother oft used to tell me stories of the great feats you performed when I was a child.”

The imp chipped in at that point “My brother too was rather an admirer of yours in his youth good Ser. The Blackfish they call you is it not? For how you differ from the rest of your lord family I am told.” He grinned that crooked grin at the Blackfish. “That should make me the black lion should it not? I do feel we have ever so much in common.”

The redhead, who Renly knew to be Edmure, Lord Hoster's heir to Riverrun and the nephew of the Blackfish, bristled at this. He was evidently displeased at the imp comparing himself to his valiant uncle. Renly was unsurprised. He had indeed heard tales that the Tully heir was a rather hot headed man.

The imp turned on him now “And lets not forget you my good lord Edmure, I have heard many tales of you too. I seem to remember one particular song in a Riverlands brothel where they sung of the _floppy fish_? Ever such an amusing analogy.”

This seemed to enrage Edmure slightly, but he seemingly had no words to respond. He just glared at the dwarf, the Blackfish putting his hand on his arm.

The imp continued. “Pray don't assume I meant any offence. Mayhaps we should settle this in the only way this Lannister knows how.” He grinned “With gold. I may be a rather small Lannister but I am still a Lannister nonetheless and as such I always pay my debts. What say you to some small bets among friends?”

“I'll take that bet” Edmure shot at him “My uncle against your Kingslayer brother. fifty gold dragons that Ser Brynden lasts longer in the tourney than Ser Jaime?”

The imp laughed. “And I was told you were an intelligent man... I accept.”

Renly laughed, turning back to Garlan and Loras who had also been watching the exchange. “Who would you bet on?” He asked Garlan.

Garlan thought for a moment. “Out of those two? I would put my money on Jaime Lannister. The Blackfish is a very seasoned warrior but seasoned warriors do not always make Tourney champions. It is like that we will see a Kingslayer victory. Though perhaps the hound or even Barristan the Bold could take him.”

Renly laughed “I am just thankful only one of the Clegane brothers has come. I fear if the mountain that rides were here, we'd have a bloodbath on our hands before we'd even started, what with the red viper here too.”

Loras grimaced. “If only the mountain that rides were here. They say he can hack a man's head off with one blow. That snake would be a mere worm under his feet.”

“They do say the mountain that rides is near unbeatable in the lists.” Renly said.

Loras snorted “I doubt that. From what I hear, the mountain for all his strength is rather dim witted. You'd just have to be clever about it.”

Renly laughed “If you insist Loras.”

The first tilts were now being called and Renly listened for his own name, smiling when he heard it. He would be facing a Fossoway. A Ser Bryan to be exact. He turned to Loras, about to speak.

“He's a red apple” Loras said, answering his question before Renly had even opened his mouth. “You should beat him easily. He's not very good.”

Renly smiled. It would not be pleasant to be knocked out in the first round, and that would have been an almost certainty had he been placed against the hound or one of the Kingsguard. Loras had done his best to correct what he called Renly's appalling jousting technique, but there was only so much his young squire could do.


	17. Chapter 17

Pulling himself up from his seat, Renly made his way over to the end of the lists to prepare for his tilt. Loras followed after him, leading his mount. Renly's tilt would be the second joust of the day following a match between Lothor Brune and one of the Estermonts which was just starting now, the two riders just finishing with their preparations.

Loras helped him up into the saddle and Renly watched as the two men charged at each other, lances held high. There was a deafening crunch as Luthor Brune's lance cracked on the Estermont's shield, splintering into a thousand pieces and leaving a visible dent in the centre of the green turtle sigil. A shame Renly thought, he would have liked to see one of his cousins and bannermen triumph.

It would soon be his turn Renly realised, as soon as the Fossoway was ready. A red apple Fossoway Renly remembered rather proudly.

Loras leant up to speak to him. “Right, try to remember what I told you. Eyes forward, lance couched, tilt it as early as possible.”

Renly grinned at him. “I'll do my best.” He said, pulling his visor down and urging his horse towards the lists.

It began, Renly pushing his horse into a gallop, trying to remember Loras' words of wisdom. The Fossoway was charging towards him, a large apple on his shield. A red apple Renly noted before cursing himself. He was supposed to be looking forward, not at his opponent. He corrected himself and slowly brought his lance down, holding it in position and trying to remember to breathe as he braced himself for the impact.

He winced slightly as they collided and Renly felt the force jar through his arm. He couldn't see whether his opponent had fallen but the clang of armour on dirt told him all he needed to know.

He grinned and lifted his visor, turning around in the saddle. It didn't look like Ser Bryan was hurt. He was already picking himself up,and brushing off his clothes. They congratulated each other politely and quickly moved out of the way for the next joust which would be between a Florent and one of the many Freys.

Renly made his way back over to Loras, still grinning.

“That was much better than usual” He told Renly, which coming from Loras must have meant he'd done well.

They heard the crowd roar then and turned around to see that both the Florent and the Frey had somehow ended up on the ground, pieces of broken lance lying about them. Both stumbled to their feet, the Frey looking more than a little dazed.

Renly and Loras laughed as the Frey's squire ran out to aid him and tried to guide him gently towards the tent where Maesters would be on hand to administer aid.

It was Jaime Lannister's turn next, gold armour glinting in the sunlight as he charged towards Thoros of Myr. The crowd cheered even for the Kingslayer as he unhorsed the red priest with an elegance that Renly found himself rather jealous of.

“He's good” Loras said, and for perhaps the first time since he'd known Loras Renly thought he heard just a trace of respect in his voice.

“Unlucky for Thoros of Myr to have to face the Kingslayer in the first round though” Renly said laughing. “No matter, I should imagine he'll perform very well in the mêlée tomorrow. Have you heard the tales of that famous flaming sword of his? I hear he even beat Sandor Clegane in the last mêlée in Kings Landing.”

Loras just nodded, eyes still on the golden knight that had just come to a stop at the end of the lists. Renly sighed, he didn't think Loras was really listening. He was probably caught up in dreams of being half as good as Jaime Lannister.

It really was an exciting Tourney Renly thought as the day went on. The Redwyne twins took out a Royce and a Westerling between them, before being unhorsed one after the other by Meryn Trant and Arys Oakheart respectively whilst the eldest son of Lord Grandison, one of Renly's bannermen took out yet another Frey. Prince Oberyn, much to Loras' annoyance, then went on to unhorse Ser Boros Blount, a rather fat knight of the Kingsguard, with relative ease, looking magnificent on a black stallion with a mane of fire. A huge roar came up from the crowds when it was announced that Ser Barristan Selmy would be facing Lord Arstan Selmy. The two embraced rather fondly before lord Arstan was then knocked unceremoniously from his horse by his great uncle.

Renly himself rode the lists several times, taking down first Lothor Brune then, a Frey and finally one of the Swanns. He sighed though when it was announced that he would be facing Ser Brynden Tully in his next tilt. He had very little chance of triumphing over the Blackfish who had already defeated his own nephew in the last tilt.

Indeed, as he knew full well he would, Renly fell to the much older Tully, hitting the ground with a loud thwack. It wasn't a bad fall though and Renly reckoned he would be none the worse for it aside form a slightly sore shoulder. After congratulating the Blackfish on his victory, Renly made his way back to Loras.

Loras took his horse from him, untacking the animal rapidly even as he cheerfully listed off all of the mistakes that Renly had made against the Blackfish. Renly laughed, Loras could probably tack up and untack a horse in his sleep, he seemed to spend so much time in the saddle.

“Are you alright?” Loras asked, once he'd finished admonishing Renly for his errors.

Renly smiled. “I'm fine Loras, as right as rain. A bruised shoulder at most. I could do with getting this armour off though. I always forget how uncomfortable wearing plate all day is.”

Loras nodded and they made their way over to Renly's own tent, a large pavilion draped in the Baratheon colours.

Entering, they chatted about the various victories of the day so far whilst Loras set about removing the heavy plate armour. Renly was beyond relieved when Loras finally got the breastplate and backplate off, his shoulders finally able to move properly.

He was even more relieved when he was able to take off thick padding underneath. It was a hot day and the armour had been stifling in the midday sun. Loras' hands however were cool against his skin as he pulled the garments off so that Renly was just in his breeches.

Sighing, Renly sunk into a chair, feeling unnaturally light now that the armour was all off. He should really get dressed Renly thought. It was hardly proper to lounge around in just his breeches in a tent whilst a busy tourney went on around him. His skin was still flushed however and the tent was shady and cool. Stretching his legs out in front of him, Renly remained seated, relishing the soft breeze that was coming in from a slight gap in the tent flap.

Loras had seemingly finished putting away his armour and came back over. He prodded Renly's shoulder. “Does it hurt?” He asked, leaning over to inspect it.

“It's a little sore” Renly admitted, wincing as Loras prodded a bit harder. “And that's certainly not helping” He added, rolling his eyes at his squire.

Loras paid him no mind, and continued rubbing his shoulder, surprisingly strong hands pressing against where Renly was most sore. It was rather painful and Renly contemplated asking him again to leave him be. He decided in the end though not to bother. The pain wasn't unbearable and besides, he knew that Loras would ignore him anyhow.

Eventually, the pain started to dissipate and Renly found he rather began to quite enjoy the feel of Loras' hands against him, palms rough from the amount of time he spent in the practice yard.

In fact, the soreness had all but completely subsided by the time Loras was finished, and he came to sit down in front of Renly, leaning back lazily against Renly's thighs, his curls tickling Renly's bare stomach.

Renly couldn't help but stiffen slightly. Loras leaning against him like this was familiar. Usually it was a comforting presence even. But usually Renly was wearing slightly more clothes. He felt himself blush slightly as Loras sighed against him, head almost in Renly's lap. He really shouldn't be thinking about any man in such a way, let along Loras. 

Renly was just running his hands through Loras' curls, trying to occupy his mind with teasing out the tangles rather than anything more improper, when the tent flap opened and Penrose stepped in.

Renly froze, his hand still entangled in Loras' hair and painfully aware of the adoring way he was probably staring at Loras.

Penrose just raised an eyebrow, and gave Renly a rather strange look before carrying on speaking as if Renly wasn't sat there only half dressed stroking his squire's hair.

“The final couple of jousts for today are about to start my lord.” Penrose informed him “There's only six of them left. The semi-finals and final will be conducted on the morrow.” He glanced at Renly's half-dressed state. “Perhaps you ought to put some clothes on Renly.”

He went to leave and was half way out the flap when he turned back around. “And on second thoughts, perhaps you should come with me now Loras.” He added quietly, and Renly thought he could see traces of pity on his face.

Loras got up obediently, glancing at Renly and shrugging before following Penrose out of the tent.

Renly got himself dressed quickly, cheeks still burning, but from embarrassment now. He was fully aware of how strange the intimacy between him and Loras must look to outsiders. And he'd have liked to insist that that wasn't the case, that there was nothing untoward about the way he behaved with Loras, and yet whilst that would have been true a while back, now it was becoming increasingly less so. 

Fully clothed now, he made his way back to the stands, trying to put the incident out of his mind.

Loras was already back in his seat, chatting with his brother animatedly. Renly took his seat next to them, Garlan quickly explaining what had happened in his absence. “The hound's safely into the semi-finals as is Jaime Lannister and Barristan Selmy. The Blackfish is just about to joust against Beric Dondarrion for the final spot.” he said.

Renly nodded. He liked the Blackfish, but it would be nice to see Lord Beric in the finals. He was one of his own bannermen, and with him and Ser Barristan, that would make half of the semifinalists born and raised in the Stormlands. The crowds would love that Renly thought.

Indeed the crowds seemed to go mad as the lightning lord sent his opponent crashing to the ground, the red and blue Tully cloak brilliant against the brown of the earth.

Robert stood up then and announced the tourney over for the day, his speech rather unclear. The crowds reluctantly dispersed at his words, no doubt to return tomorrow though Renly thought. He was about to join them in filing out of the Tourney grounds, when Robert stopped him.

“Renly” he boomed, throwing an arm around his youngest brother's shoulders “What say you to riding back in the royal litter with me. I haven't seen near enough of you yet and besides I've been surrounded by bloody Lannisters all day.” His words were slurring badly. He was evidently already drunk Renly thought.

“If it please you Robert” Renly smiled at him. In truth he would rather not ride back with the royal family in the litter, but it had not been posed as a question. He glanced at the Queen's stony face. It was going to be an enjoyable ride...

He walked over to Loras, pulling him over to the side of the stands.

“The king wants me to accompany him” He sighed “Join Garlan and the Fossoways if you like and I'll have one of my guards walk my horse back. I'd ask if you could join me in the litter as my squire, but I doubt there'd be room with how fat Robert's got”

Loras glanced at the royal litter, watching the Queen and Crown Prince Joffrey climb in, bored expressions on their faces. “Trust me, I really don't mind” he said, grinning at Renly before heading over to his brother.

Renly grinned back, watching his squire depart with the Fossoways. Both the red and green apple branches he noted from the shields that the men were bearing. Why couldn't they carry around their shields all the time Renly thought, it would make life a lot easier. In reality it seemed like the Fossoways went out of their way to confuse him. The day before, Ser Jon, who Renly now knew to be of the green apples, had been wearing a red cloak. It was if the man was deliberately trying to trick Renly into getting it wrong.

Sighing, he climbed up into the litter after his brother, having to practically push Robert in he seemed so unsteady. As Renly had suspected, the litter was cramped with the addition of himself. Noting this, Robert merely grunted and thrust Myrcella onto Renly's lap.

“Be a good uncle and amuse your niece Renly” Robert slurred.

Renly smiled, patting the girl's curls. He had very little experience with children but Myrcella seemed to be happy enough on his lap. She beamed up at him, cheeks flushed with the excitement of the day as she leant up to play with the stag broach on his cloak.

“I hope you've got a good feast prepared for us tomorrow” Robert said, laughing gruffly.

“The best Storm's End has ever seen” Renly promised, wincing slightly as little Myrcella leant up to tug on his hair, having evidently grown bored of the broach.

“Ah it's good to be home” Robert said, looking at out the countryside “I'll bet the Stormland wenches have missed me.”

Renly dared to glance at the queen. Cersei had pursed her lips, her face murderous. She turned away disdainfully.

No-one spoke after that, the gentle lull of the litter and the influence of the wine seemingly sending Robert to sleep. Cersei held herself in a stony silence, her face now impassive. Renly was rather glad for it. He was happy to sit there quietly with Myrcella, watching the smallfolk out of the windows.

All seemed calm enough until Tommen clambered down from his seat and tried to climb up on to Renly's lap too, evidently feeling left out.

The Queen shot Renly a venomous glance then and wordlessly scooped Tommen up and placed him back in his seat. Renly thought she would have taken Myrcella from him too if she'd have been able to without seeming extraordinarily rude. He couldn't quite understand her evident distaste for him spending time with her children. They were his nephews and nieces after all.

Needless to say, he was glad when he could finally descend from the litter just outside the walls of Storm's End. He sighed with relief as took his horse from his guard and was just about to mount it to ride up the rest of the way up to his stables when out of the corner of his eye he saw Oberyn Martell watching him.

He approached, and Renly forced himself to smile politely.

“You rode well Lord Renly” he said. “The Blackfish is a worthy opponent to fall to.”

“I thank you” Renly said “You rode excellently too” He added for indeed it was true. The red viper had defeated many worthy opponents in the lists.

“Yes” the prince said dryly “It's a successful tourney indeed when one doesn't inadvertently cripple the heir to one of the great houses isn't it?”

Renly just laughed, trying to think of something to say to that. “I hope you'll be pleased that I'll be serving Dornish wine at the feast tomorrow” he eventually managed.

“That's all good and well, but tell me lord Renly, when will _justice_ be served?” He asked, his black eyes looking into Renly's own. “I've been waiting a long time for your king brother to bring his precious Lannisters to heel.”

“I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about Prince Oberyn.” Renly said evenly.

“Is that so?” Oberyn raised an eyebrow.

“Lord Tywin is not here anyhow”

“So you do know what I'm talking about?” His eyes glinted for a moment. “It is no matter. I've waited ten years. I can wait a little longer. But make sure to warn your king brother. The viper's patience is running out.”

“I am sure Robert has done what he think fair” Renly said, trying to be diplomatic.

“A loyal brother to the last” Oberyn smiled before taking on a more sinister tone. “As am I lord Renly.”

He turned away from him then, and Renly set about mounting his horse, not knowing what to make of that encounter. He cursed as his mare danced away from him, skittish from all the excitement of the tourney. He sighed. Loras would have been able to calm her. Alas Loras was not here. He looked around for his guard instead, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Prince Oberyn however was watching him again. “My good lord Renly.” He said “You appear to have lost your squire. Let mine own help you.”

Before Renly could protest, Oberyn's boy had sidled forward to help him, his blue eyes gleaming. He held the mare steady as Renly pulled himself up into the stirrups, before then coming to his side, adjusting the saddle for him. He was good with the mare and Renly couldn't deny that he was grateful for the aid, but he did wonder whether it was quite necessary that the boy rest his hand on Renly's thigh in quite that manner as he tightened the girth strap.

Renly was rather grateful he'd chosen to wear rather loose breeches today and spurred his horse on hurriedly as soon as the boy had drawn back. He felt colour rising to his cheeks even as he rode away, the prince's soft laughter behind him.


	18. Chapter 18

The castle was surprising quiet that evening and most of the guests seemed to have retired early to their chambers. Renly was glad for it. The long day of riding and excitement had taken it's toll; he was exhausted.

It was with great relief that he finally dragged himself up the stairs to his own chambers, Loras following behind him. 

He pushed the door open wearily and collapsed straight onto his bed, not even bothering to change into his night clothes. Yawning, he stretched out his tired limbs. He would be glad to turn in for the night. It would be another long day on the morrow, and this time they had a feast to look forward to. And perhaps more importantly, to stay awake for. 

Loras wasted no time in lying himself down next to him, sighing as he leant his head against Renly's chest, as if Renly were a pillow. Renly laughed and leant down to ruffle his curls. He doubted he was particularly comfortable pillow but Loras seemed to be happy enough. 

“Did you enjoy today Loras?” He asked, staring up at the ceiling absent-mindedly. 

“Of course I did.” Loras said and Renly could tell he was smiling. 

Lying flat on his back as he was, Renly couldn't see his face but he could picture the exact way Loras would be smiling perfectly, down to the way slight dimples would be forming at the corners of his mouth. Renly smiled at the image, reaching down to run a hand through Loras' hair. 

Loras leant into the touch, sighing ever so softly and relaxing against Renly.

They lay in a comfortable silence for a while, Renly playing with one of Loras' curls, enjoying the way that he could pull it straight and then watch it spring back into shape. It was something that Renly had got into the habit of doing recently and he often wondered whether Loras found it irritating. 

Raising his head and looking down at him now, eyes closed and smiling slightly, he reckoned it was safe to say Loras didn't. 

“Renly?” Loras opened his eyes as if he'd known Renly had been staring at him. “You know what you were saying earlier? about how you've never been up to that whorehouse in Bronzegate?”

“Yes. What about it?” Renly regarded him curiously. Garlan had interrupted their conversation, but he'd thought there nothing further to say on the topic really. 

“I was just wondering if you had any other experience with that sort of thing?” 

Renly laughed, rather surprised at the question. “A little. Not much.” 

“Have you ever... you know?” 

“No” Renly shook his head. 

“But you've done some things?” 

Renly sighed, returning to studying the ceiling. He'd been dreading this sort of conversation ever coming up. He wondered how best to answer. 

“Like most I've had the odd kiss and a bit more with one of the servants. Nothing serious.” He said eventually, choosing his words carefully. 

Renly frowned. He had failed to mention that the servant in question had been a stable boy rather than a kitchen wench but he thought Loras could most definitely do without that particular piece of information.

He sighed. He remembered the incident well. It had indeed been no more than a few kisses and, Renly blushed, a rather inexperienced hand down his breeches. Even so he'd found the stable boy a new position at one of his bannermen's halls, he'd been so embarrassed. Ever since he'd tried to erase it from his memory, usually preferring to pretend to himself it had never happened. It had been back when he'd naively assumed that eventually he'd come to want to chase after girls like the rest of the boys at Storm's end. Renly sighed. It seemed he was still waiting for that now. Perhaps he'd be waiting forever.

“But nothing more?” Loras pressed.

“No.” Renly laughed. “Its rather shameful at my age really. My King brother would be sorely disappointed if he knew.”

Loras laughed. “Well it's not like I've had any experience with that sort of thing either, so you're in good company.”

“Well its fine for you.” Renly nudged him playfully.“You're not ten and three yet. In my case however... I'm so old that if I were a maid they might call me past it!”

Loras pulled himself up then, sitting cross-legged facing Renly like he often did in the mornings. “You're not so old Renly” He said. “You're only ten and six Renly, hardly all that much older than me. And besides, you'd be shocked if you knew what some of the squires my age do get up to. You know the master at arms caught Dendric Storm having a quick tumble in the hay with a serving girl the other day, and he's younger than me by several moons.”

Renly laughed. He was not surprised in the slightest. He suspected Robert had probably been gallivanting around fathering bastards by the time he was Loras' age. Stannis on the other hand probably hadn't been. For the first time in his life, it seemed that Renly had something in common with Stannis. The thought made him smile wryly. 

“Well as I said this morning. You could if you wanted to.” He told Loras. “I'm sure the maids would fall at your feet if you even just deigned to look in their direction.” 

His tone was teasing but the words was true enough. He sighed. He doubted that Loras had noticed, but it really did seem that half of the young girls of Storm's End imagined themselves madly in love with his young squire. Nowadays Loras could hardly walk down a corridor without one of the maids giggling. And often Renly had overheard groups of girls whispering about him, the shy ones merely blushing and remarking how very beautiful he was, while the braver ones would make crude innuendos about how skilled he was with a lance. Renly always pretended not to hear. 

“You think?” Loras asked. 

“Of course.” Renly said, laughing.

And for good reason Renly thought. His squire had always been pretty, but it was becoming more and more evident each day that Loras was growing up to be remarkably attractive, uncommonly so. He'd started to fill out, and was practically a young man now, no longer a boy. He was sure that the younger maids would jump at the chance to have a romantic tryst with his squire.  
.  
Loras sighed. “Why haven't you Renly?” 

“I've never sought it deliberately out and as such the opportunity has never arisen” Renly said simply. It wasn't a lie he guessed, but it certainly wasn't the whole truth either. “But just because I haven't doesn't mean you can't.” He thought back to what Penrose had said yesterday about them being not quite being joined at the hip. 

Loras just shrugged and changed the subject.“Who do you think is going to win tomorrow?”

Renly sighed, perfectly happy to let the matter drop. “The Kingslayer most likely.” 

“I'm going to be better than him one day” Loras said confidently, yawning slightly and lying back down against Renly. 

Renly rolled his eyes. Loras seemed to have a habit of giving himself rather difficult goals. This was perhaps the most unachievable yet. Jaime Lannister was the best of the best and near unbeatable. Some said his skill was comparable even to the late Arthur Dayne. He contemplated telling Loras this, but imagined he wouldn't take it overly well. Instead he just pushed Loras gently off him and pulled back the covers, quite happy to go to sleep now.

Loras didn't bother to ask if he could stay. He just climbed in beside Renly, tucking his head under Renly's chin and putting his arms loosely around his neck. 

Talk about brazen Renly thought, his squire didn't seem to have any notion of boundaries. He supposed it was his fault really though. For allowing it. 

He sighed. Loras was going to be the death of him before long. This intimacy he and Loras shared had been easy enough when Loras had been a child, but now... now things were different. He wasn't sure how long he could continue to allow it to go on for. It was becoming increasingly difficult to lie here quietly next to him, feeling nothing, wanting nothing. Before long he wouldn't be able to cope.

He smiled wistfully. It had to stop soon he thought sadly. 

He sighed. Loras would be upset. And confused. He'd grown used to being able to climb into Renly's bed like he was one of his brothers. He wouldn't understand why things had to change. And Renly wouldn't be able to explain that to him.

Renly glanced down at his Loras rather sadly but didn't move him. One more night couldn't hurt he decided. He pressed a soft kiss to Loras' curls 

Leaning his head on top of Loras', he closed his eyes and drifted into a restless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so I go on holiday to America tomorrow, so I won't be updating for the next two weeks. Will continue posting as usual on my return to good old England. Sorry to keep you waiting in such an awkward place! :D Totally not planned or anything...


	19. Chapter 19

As Renly and Loras had anticipated, Jaime Lannister did indeed win the tourney on the morrow. A huge roar went up from the crowd as the Kingslayer's lance found its mark with an accuracy that made the spectators gasp as it hit the hound square between the shoulders, sending him crashing into the dirt with a dull clang. 

Renly found he cared little. Once the hound and the Kingslayer had unhorsed Ser Barristan and Lord Beric respectively in the semi-finals, it was all the same to him who emerged the victor. It was of no matter to him whether it was the Lannister or the Lannisters' dog that won. Either way it was a Lannister victory. 

Still, he rose to congratulate the Kingslayer warmly on his victory, gesturing for his winnings to be brought out. He tried to ignore the rather smug expression on the Queens face and keep his voice polite as he presented the bag of gold dragons to her golden brother. 

He then sat back to watch as Ser Jaime rode about the lists to choose his queen of love and beauty. He made a full circle of the grounds, eventually coming to a halt in front of the royal pavilion where he handed the wreath of flowers to his sister. 

Renly was not surprised. It was in good taste to crown one's sister, especially when that sister also happened to be the Queen of the seven kingdoms. Her beauty might have done nothing for him personally, but even Renly had to admit that Cersei Lannister was the most beautiful woman present that day by far. Her golden hair glittered in the sunlight as she accepted the wreath from her brother with the faint hint of a smile. 

This final ritual over, Renly finally declared the tourney at its end and the crowds began to disperse for the last time. Renly smiled as the small folk passed by, excitement still running high in the air. No doubt they would all be heading to the local inns and whorehouses to continue the celebrations, as would some of the noblemen too Renly mused, laughing, thinking back to what Tyrion Lannister had told him. 

Any whoring done by the lords however would have to wait until later. First would be the feast, likely the biggest and most splendid one the Storm's End had likely ever seen. 

Making their way back up to the castle, Renly watched with amusement as Edmure Tully reluctantly handed over the fifty gold dragons promised to Tyrion Lannister in the event that the Kingslayer progressed further in the tourney than the Blackfish. The imp pocketed them with a grin before waddling away to catch up with his brother and congratulate him. 

The feast got underway immediately upon their arrival for the hour was late and many of the guests famished. Before anyone had even taken their seats, the servants were bringing out huge casks of wine from the cellars to quench the guest's eager thirst. Eager to offend nobody, Renly had asked for wines from both the Arbour and Dorne to be brought out for the celebrations. 

Robert himself led the festivities, ordering for his glass to be filled before he'd even sat down. Renly couldn't help but laugh. Even in the presence of his three children, his brother seemed to have no qualms about showing desire to drink the night away. He was in good spirits, chuckling as serving girls scurries about him, eager to refill his glass. 

Renly looked up and down the table before taking his seat next to him. The Dornish were sat at one end, and thankfully the Lannisters were at the other. There was enough distance too between Loras and Garlan and the Dornish company, for which he was also grateful. The only potential issue Renly could see was that somehow the Redwynes had ended up sat beside the Dornish Prince. Already he could hear one of the Redwyne twins complaining loudly about a dornish vintage one of the servants had just poured for him. He spat out the mouthful he'd just taken into his goblet, declaring it bitter and undrinkable. Prince Oberyn pursed his lips at this, swilling his glass and commenting dryly that he for one was glad they weren't serving the grape juice the Arbour passed off as wine at this end of the table. His blue eyed squire sat at his side, eyeing the Redwynes with poorly concealed disdain. 

Renly beckoned one of the serving girls aside.“Can I trust you to see to it that Lord Paxter Redwyne and his household are served some of the arbour red?” He whispered in her ear. 

She blushed and nodded, hastily going for the wine, evidently eager to please. Renly smiled at her as she left. She seemed a sweet, diligent girl and he could rely on her to ensure relations were kept relatively friendly between the Dornish and the men from the Arbour. 

Robert roared with laughter. “Is that one of my younger brother's wenches I see?” He asked, clapping Renly on the shoulder. “How old are you even now? Fourteen? It's about time you found yourself a nice woman to warm your bed.”

Jon Arryn on Robert's other side looked despairing. He seemed ashamed on the king's behalf that Robert couldn't even remember the age of his youngest brother. 

Renly merely grinned “I'm sixteen actually.” 

He shouldn't have bothered. Robert didn't appear to have heard the correction, his attention was already turned to Thoros of Myr who was sitting a few seats down from the Queen and her children. He was challenging Robert to some sort of drinking competition, which Robert seemed to be accepting eagerly from the way he was thumping the table with his fist. 

“PASS ME THE WINE” He roared to one of the serving girls, pinching her backside and making her squeal. She hurried to pour several more glasses, almost spilling it in the process. Renly gave her a sympathetic glance. He made a note to apologise later to the girl for his brother's conduct. 

Leaving Robert to Thoros of Myr and their drinks, Renly made his way down the table to where Loras was sitting, thinking he'd take the chance to enjoy some decent company before the food was brought out. Approaching them, he noted with exasperation that they were sat amongst the Fossoways and that once again Ser Jon of the Green apples was dressed in red and Ser Tanton of the reds was in green. Renly sighed. This could surely not be coincidental. 

He sat himself down next to Loras, who shifted along the bench to make room for him. 

“How did the Redwynes end up at the Dornish end?” Renly asked him, grinning. “They're ruining my plans for an entirely peaceful feast” 

Loras laughed, shrugging. “I guess they got unlucky” He said. “Anyway I was about to come look for you. I need to ask you something.” 

“Go on” Renly regarded him curiously. 

“Would it be ok if I had some wine?” He sounded rather put out. “I've been told I need your permission.” He added, shooting a venomous look in his brother's direction. 

Renly laughed. He had no issue with it. He tried to recall when Penrose had first allowed him to drink wine. Renly thought. He'd probably been roundabout the same age as Loras was now and there was hardly anything wrong with drinking a few glasses with a meal. Besides, he couldn't remember the last time he'd denied Loras something he'd asked for and he wasn't keen on starting now. If he was going to insist Loras stop his habit of frequently spending nights in Renly's room, he'd rather he remained on Loras' good side with respect to all other matters. But with Loras' elder brother here, he wondered whether it was really his place to make the decision. He decided to try and be diplomatic. 

“As far as I'm concerned you can do as you please Loras. But perhaps it would be best to ask your brother.” He said, looking to Garlan for guidance. 

“You were supposed to take my side” Loras muttered, flipping his hair out of his eyes in annoyance and glaring at him. 

Garlan laughed however. “Lord Renly's halls, Lord Renly's rules. He has no issue with it, so I can hardly see cause for me to complain. Only one glass though. You're still young.”

Loras rolled his eyes. “I'm almost three and ten.” He retorted, looking to Renly to back him up.

Renly just grinned at him, and Loras shoved him playfully in mock irritation.

“As I said. Young” Garlan said, ruffling his younger brother's hair from across the table. 

Renly laughed, leaning over to whisper conspiratorially in Loras' ear. “When you are three and ten Loras, I promise I'll let you drink a whole cask of wine if you so desire it. And I will never tell Garlan about it.”

Loras grinned and brushed his hair out of his eyes. It fell straight back into his face. Garlan had evidently done a good job when he'd messed it up moments earlier and Renly couldn't help but laugh at his squire's rather futile attempts to make it tidy again. Their eyes met for a moment then and Renly had the sudden urge to tuck one of Loras' more stubborn curls behind his ear. He probably would have done had it just been the two of them. He pushed the urge aside. 

The first courses were beginning to be served now. Great trays of breads and pastries and all manner of foods were being brought in and placed on the table. To everyone's surprise, as a plate of fruit was set down in front of him by a particularly pretty serving girl, Ser Tanton Fossoway leapt to his feet, clambering up onto the table and declaring in very slurred tones to the girl that he would win the next tourney and dedicate his victory to her. The table roared with laughter as the girl blushed and scurried back into the kitchen. Renly laughed along with them, finding it incredulous that Ser Tanton had already managed to get himself well and truly in his cups. 

He was trying to descend now from the table and was swaying from one foot to the other as he tried not to step on the fruit brought so lovingly by his beloved serving girl. Taking an unsteady step forward, he succeeded in knocking over an entire plate of pastries, sending them flying across the table in Renly's direction. Renly laughed even as the crumbs landed in his lap.

He was waving away Ser Tanton's profuse drunken apologies and was about to sweep away the bits of pasty that had ended up on his lap when Loras did it for him. Renly couldn't help but tense slightly as Loras' hands brushed against his thighs, sweeping the crumbs onto the floor. It was a casual gesture, a friendly one, but still Renly felt butterflies flutter in his stomach and his heart skipped a beat as Loras' fingers lingered tantalisingly on his inner thigh as he brushed the final remaining crumbs away. 

Taking a deep breath and composing himself, Renly stood up to make his way back to his proper seat by his brother's side. He resisted the urge to meet Loras' eyes again and forced himself to walk away. He sighed as he reached his seat. That hadn't been so hard had it? 

He sat back down, determined to enjoy himself tonight. Even more food had been set out on this part of the table and Robert had already piled his plate and was tucking in enthusiastically. Renly however found he'd lost his appetite somewhat. Instead he picked up his glass of wine, taking a long drink from it. He couldn't get the feel of Loras' hands against his thighs out of his mind. Glancing down at his lap, he could still feel the warmth of Loras fingers, the way they'd send shivers running down his spine. He forced the memory out of his mind and drained his glass. The wine would help he decided. 

The wine didn't help. In fact, if anything, it did the opposite. With every glass of wine, Renly found himself longing more and more to return to Loras' end of the table, inventing more and more extravagant ways in which he could make it appear acceptable that he was abandoning the King's company in favour of his squires. It was only when the desserts arrived however and Renly found he couldn't hold his spoon quite steady that he realised he was well and truly tipsy. His head was spinning slightly and he was losing his battle with himself not to return to Loras and look into those liquid gold eyes and run his hands through his curls. 

Determined not to give in to what he knew to be a ridiculous urge, he stood up and announced he was going out for some air. 

Jon Arryn made to rise, offering to accompany him. Renly waved his insistences away with a forced smile as he strode out of the hall with long strides, noting with displeasure that the Dornish Prince's snake like eyes had followed him to the door. Thankfully he stayed in his seat, as had Jon Arryn. Renly breathed a sigh of relief. He needed to be alone. He needed to collect himself. And most of all he needed to get the feel of Loras' hands on his lap out of his head. 

Once outside Renly strayed from the path, going to a secluded area by the walls, away from the prying eyes of any guests that might fancy an evening stroll around the grounds. Breathing deeply, he leant heavily against the cold stone wall. It looked a lot more sturdy than it currently felt and Renly suspected he was drunker than he had previously thought. 

He tried to collect his thoughts but his head was spinning. He thought about sitting down on the grass, but had a vague recollection that the evening dew would probably ruin his clothes. Instead he remained leaning against the wall, lost in imaginings of quite how wonderful it would feel if Loras were to repeat what he'd done earlier. In his imagination Loras hands did not remain only for a few fleeting moments, but lingered. And instead of brushing the crumbs to the floor, his fingers were moving in the opposite direction, up his leg, warm against the inside of his thighs. 

He was brought out of his thoughts by the sound of footsteps. Somebody had followed him out. He tensed nervously and stared into the darkness. Part of him hoped desperately that it would be Loras, and yet another part of him, an equally irrational one part, was terrified of the same prospect. 

His breath hitched when he saw that the figure had left the path and was approaching him. Perhaps it was Loras indeed. He could think of very few other people who would follow him out here. The figure was not tall enough to be Penrose. It must be Loras. His heart raced at the thought, butterflies again rising in his stomach. 

As the figure got closer however, it became evident that it wasn't Loras. Even in the pitch black he could tell that the person approaching was slightly taller and much broader than Loras. He held himself differently too, with much less elegance than he'd come to recognise in Loras' movements. 

The figure finally reached him, leaning casually against the stone wall, mirroring Renly's own posture. In the moonlight Renly could make out dark skin, gleaming eyes, brown locks framing a strong jaw. He recognised him instantly. The piercing blue eyes of Prince Oberyn's squire were almost as captivating and impossible to forget as Loras' golden ones. 

Renly stood there frozen to the spot as the boy regarded him coolly. After a time he reached out to grasp Renly's arm, rough fingers snaking their way around his wrist. Renly pulled back slightly, head spinning. He knew that he ought to protest, that he ought snatch his arm away, and yet he wasn't sure he wanted to. The grip was strong, firm against his racing pulse and the rough fingers reminded him of Loras'. 

The boy's breath was warm against his cheek now, his thumb trailing down Renly's wrist whilst one hand moved to his stomach, finding its way beneath his doublet to rest against his bare skin, tantalisingly lingering at the top of his breeched. The boy leant in. 

Renly gulped, expecting the boy to kiss him. 

He didn't. 

Instead, Renly found himself pushed roughly against the cold stone wall, the boy's strong chest pinning him there. Renly felt his own body respond and the dornish boy looked up with a smirk as he felt Renly's grow aroused against him. Flicking his tongue along the edge of Renly's chin and down his neck, he eased his leg in between Renly's thighs, pushing his own erection against Renly's own, a deep throaty laugh escaping as the hand on his stomach crept down to Renly's breeches. 

Renly tensed as a rough hand unlaced his breeches in one smooth stroke, easily, expertly as if the boy wanted Renly to be quite sure of how many times he'd done this before. Renly desperately tried to compose himself, to stop his breaths coming in ragged gasps as the boy eased Renly's breeches down past his hips. 

Renly's breath hitched as he felt the evening air cold against his cock and the boy took him in hand, firm, deft fingers stroking him from base to tip, sending shivers up Renly's spine and making his heart race. 

With an insolent smirk that reminded him painfully of Loras, the boy dropped to his knees. Renly closed his eyes, unable to prevent the almost low moan that escaped his lips as he felt a wet tongue tracing along his length, teasing him, drawing his cock slowly into the warmth of the boy's mouth.

Heart racing, Renly had to grip the wall behind him for support as he came undone, his eyes still clenched shut and trying not whimper in pleasure. His breath came even more frantically as the boy quickened his pace, taking Renly deeper into his mouth with every stroke, sending spirals of pleasure rushing through his body. Feeling his release draw near, Renly reached down, tangling his hands in the boy's hair. It felt strange under his fingers, straight and coarse. Regardless, he gripped the strands tightly as the tension in the depths of his stomach wound tighter still, his body craving every movement of the boy's tongue with yet more insistence. His release would be soon, it had to be soon, every fibre of Renly's being ached for it.

Head flung back against the stone wall, Renly couldn't help but cry out as the boy's tongue tipped him over the edge. Lost completely in his own pleasure, for a blissful moment Renly could forget everything. He could forget the cold of the wall behind him, his shame at having a boy's mouth wrapped deliciously around his cock, he could even forget Loras.


	20. Chapter 20

The light patter of rain against his windows woke him. Renly groaned, his head throbbing and the world still spinning slightly around him. He clutched the sheets to make it stop, relieved to find that the silken covers were familiar. He was in his own bed. He stretched out tentatively, breathing another sigh of relief when he found he was alone in the bed. Eyes still shut, he tried to recall how he got here. He had a vague memory of coming in through one of the back staircases, but the events of last night were hazy in his mind, a confused mix of what he thought he remembered and what he might have imagined.

He opened his eyes and winced, the dull morning light making his head pound again. Slowly the room came into focus. His eyes fell on Loras, sat at the foot of the bed, cross-legged as usual.

He shot up in bed, regretting it instantly as a wave of nausea washed over him. Glancing down, he noticed with alarm that he wasn't wearing anything. Hurriedly he gathered the covers more tightly about his waist. He didn't know why he bothered really. In almost three years of friendship Renly knew that Loras must have seen him naked, or at least almost so, countless times. Nevertheless he shifted uncomfortably, pulling the covers up as high as they would go.

“How long have you been here?” He asked Loras, the slight note of distress in his voice evident even to himself.

Loras looked taken aback at Renly's tone. “Hardly any time at all” he said, frowning and regarding Renly curiously. “Why? Is something wrong Renly?” He hopped off the bed, and came to Renly's side, slightly disconcerted it seemed at the rather wild look in Renly's eyes.

Renly visibly relaxed. Loras seemed entirely ignorant of whatever had gone on last night. “No, nothing is wrong Loras.” He said with a sigh.

The frown didn't leave Loras face. He seemed unconvinced.

“Are you sure?” He asked and moved to sit down next to Renly, nudging Renly's shoulder to try and make him move up and make room for him.

Renly shifted awkwardly but didn't move. Loras drew back, seemingly suddenly unsure of himself.

A rather tense silence followed during which neither of them spoke. Feeling oddly self conscious, Renly fidgeted with the silk covers, not knowing what to say.

“I looked for you after the feast” Loras said eventually. “Where did you go?”

“I.. I just needed some fresh air” Renly said rather lamely, not quite meeting Loras' eyes. “And then I turned in early for the night.”

It hurt more than he had anticipated. Lying to Loras like this. He realised with a pang that this might just be the first time he'd done such a thing. He'd no doubt concealed things, maybe even deliberately misled him, but he'd never told an outright lie. He felt an irrational urge to laugh. Lying was second nature to Renly. He'd grown up learning to conceal the truth, to tell people what they wanted to hear, to play the game of the court. But he'd never played this particular game with Loras. And this, he felt, qualified as an outright lie. He had most definitely not turned in for an innocent early night yesterday.

“Oh” Loras sounded like he bought none of it. “Why would you do that?”

Renly felt colour rising to his face. Loras knew him too well. He knew Renly was not the sort to miss the latter part of a feast he'd spent months organising just because he fancied getting some rest. It was a lie and a poor lie at that.

Renly could offer him no answer.

The silence resumed, Loras hovering rather awkwardly in the doorway, looking mildly confused.

The expression pained Renly. It was an expression that didn't belong on Loras' face. Loras who was usually so sure of everything around him.

“I should really get dressed and see off the guests” Renly said finally, finding his voice and hoping Loras would realise that he wanted to be left alone for a moment.

Loras took the hint, nodding and slipping silently out of the room.

Renly sat for a while once Loras had left, head in his hands, not knowing quite how to feel. His head was bothering him, but not nearly as much as the overriding sense of shame that still hung over him, laced with an all consuming guilt that he couldn't quite explain.

He lay back down, burying his face in his pillow and contemplating the events of last night. Perhaps it had been for the best Renly tried to tell himself. He ought to feel more at ease now, more relaxed, less uptight. Perhaps he had got these shameful desires out of his system for a time, and he wouldn't have to push Loras away for him. Perhaps there would be a return to the easy intimacy he and Loras had used to enjoy, the easy intimacy Loras probably imagined they still enjoyed.

Renly sighed. Indeed surely the shame of yesterday would be worth it if it meant he could stop thinking about Loras for a time. When all was said and done the incident with the Dornish boy had ruined nothing, he had nothing to ruin with the dornish boy. Even if he talked, it would be dismissed as mindless gossip, something servants might talk about for a week before forgetting all about it.

He let out another sigh. With Loras on the other hand, he had everything to ruin. He pondered for a moment what he might have done had he not taken himself outside yesterday instead of seeking Loras out like he'd wanted to. All it would have taken was for him to do something unbelievably stupid- like trying to kiss him- and the friendship they'd built over the few years could have collapsed in seconds.

He smiled wryly, picturing all too well the look of horror on Loras' face had he done something of the sort, mind clouded by the wine as it had been. He didn't think he could bear it, seeing Loras look at him with shock, with disgust even. He could only imagine what Loras would think. He'd jump to conclusions Renly thought sadly. He'd assume their friendship was built upon a lie, that Renly desired his company for a reason Loras had never realised or understood, because Renly liked to look at him, to touch him.

That wasn't true Renly thought. He and Loras had been firm friends long before such thoughts had ever crossed his mind, and he went to lengths to push such thoughts out of his mind.

He wondered whether Loras would understand that though.

Probably not he thought sadly. He'd probably not even give him the chance to explain himself either. Loras wasn't known for his patience. He would fly off the handle before Renly could even try and convince him that their friendship wasn't built around Renly finding him attractive.

He put his head in his hands. Perhaps he deserved the anger Loras would throw at him. Perhaps it was cruel of him, what he was doing to Loras, refusing to tell him anything, pretending nothing had changed, all the while looking at him mildly inappropriately, resisting the urge to touch him, to put his hand in his hair. Perhaps he was using Loras.

He felt sickening guilty all of a sudden. Thinking about it now, surely he did owe it to Loras to at least try and explain. To tell him why the intimacy between them had to stop. Rather than hiding behind secrets and lies.

Sighing, he forced himself to climb out of bed and got dressed, still not knowing what to do for the best.

..........................................................

Many of the guests had already departed by the time Renly descended the stairs. As luck would have it however, he caught the tail end of the Dornish party leaving, the only guests Renly would have rather not seen off.

He glanced around the entrance hall furtively. Thankfully there was no sign of Prince Oberyn's squire, only Prince Oberyn himself, conversing with Penrose by the door.

Renly approached them reluctantly. He would have preferred to retrace his steps and return to his chambers, but the prince had seen him now and it would be rude to leave without speaking to him. He made himself smile, the mask came more easily than he expected.

“I hope you enjoyed your stay at Storm's End.” Renly said warmly, shaking Oberyn's hand.

“It was a most amusing Tourney my lord Renly” the prince said, fixing his viper eyes on Renly. “We were much honoured to attend.”

“The pleasure's all mine.” Renly forced himself to smile at him.

To his surprise Prince Oberyn returned the smile, black eyes gleaming with amusement. “Yes my lord Renly” He said softly “I'm sure it is.”

He turned then, sweeping out of the hall, his sun emblazoned cloak flying out behind him as he joined the dornish men already assembled on the steps.

Renly stared after him, unable now to keep the grimace of his face. Penrose turned to him, mildly amused.“He''s a strange piece of work that red viper of Dorne, isn't he my lord?”

Renly nodded, trying to hide his discomfort. “Have you seen Loras?” He asked quickly, desperate to change the subject.

“As a matter of fact I have actually.” Penrose said “He was at western gate, seeing his brother off. Ser Garlan apologised for not catching you before he left.”

Loras was indeed where Penrose had last seen him, sitting on a low wall outside the gate and absent-mindedly watching the party from the Reach disappear over the hill, not seeming to care that the rain was getting heavier now, the wind whipping at his curls.

He grinned when he saw Renly approaching. If he'd found this morning awkward he didn't show it, for which Renly was grateful.

Sighing, he pulled himself up on to the wall, next to him, determined to make amends for the appearing distant earlier.

“You alright?” Loras asked. “You don't seem yourself this morning.”

Renly shrugged. “I'm fine Loras. Just a little tired is all.”

Loras turned to face him, laughing as swung one of his legs over the side of the wall. “You know Renly. You're a terrible liar.”

“I am not” Renly retorted, genuinely put-out at this. “I am a perfect liar. I wouldn't do so well at court if I wasn't. I spend a great part every day feigning interest, convincing this lord and that one that I care even slightly about what they are saying. I was born lying.”

“Fair enough” Loras grinned. “I'll revise my statement then. You're a terrible liar when you try to lie to me.”

Renly shifted awkwardly. “That's not true.” He said, fidgeting with his sleeve.

Loras laughed. “Well you're doing a very good job of proving otherwise.”

Renly sighed. “I guess I'll have to improve then.”

Loras smirked. “Not lying to me would be easier you know.”

Renly rolled his eyes and turned away from him. He wished Loras was right.


	21. Chapter 21

For all Renly had enjoyed the tourney and had relished the excitement that had come with it, he would very much have been lying if he said he wasn't at least slightly relieved it was all over. He found in fact that he was beyond glad when the last of the guests finally took their leave, and things could finally return to normality in Storm's End.

He was not quite so relieved however when he glanced at the mountain of papers that were stacked on his desk. He'd pleasantly managed to ignore all of his official Lordship duties for the duration of the tourney, and now it seemed he was paying the price.

Sighing, he sat down dutifully at the desk, rifling through papers and trying to work out what the tourney had cost them.

He laughed when he saw the figure. Stannis would most definitely had called him frivolous had he seen it.

He called over to Loras who was sat by the window, watching the waves crash against the walls below as he often did when Renly was too busy too be able to pay him any attention.

Renly smiled as he too glanced out of the window. The good weather seemed to have departed along with the guests. The summer showed no signs of fading, but the glorious sunshine had vanished, powerful, unrelenting summer storms taking its place. Ominous black clouds rolled in off the sea, masking the sky and rattling even the walls of Storm's End with the thunder they brought. Renly rather enjoyed the storms, he loved nothing more than lying in bed awake, listening to them.

He glanced at his squire. Loras on the other hand did not seem to share his love of the storms. Whilst Loras had never been frightened of them and even seemed to have a grudging sort of respect for them, he certainly was not overly fond. He had a rather glazed look of boredom on his face at the moment as he stared absent-mindedly out of the window, the rain lashing against the glass panes. It was the sunshine Loras loved, the lazy sunny days he'd grown up with in Highgarden.

He called to him. “Care take a guess Loras at how much this tourney has cost us?”

Loras frowned. “I don't know? Fifty thousand gold dragons? Sixty? Seventy?”

Renly laughed “Double your last guess and you'll be almost there!”

Loras shrugged. “It could be worse.”

Renly sighed. He always managed to forget that Loras came from a much wealthier family than he did. His brother may have been the King, but even the crown's wealth was pittance when compared to the vast fortunes of the Tyrells or the Lannisters.

“It's your name day in a few weeks Loras?” Renly said, trying to put his squire back in good spirits. “Do you have anything in mind as to how you want to celebrate it?”

Loras shrugged again. “I don't want to celebrate it at all if the weathers like this”

Renly turned back to his papers, sighing. He knew better than to bother trying to cheer Loras up when he was in moods like this. “I have to go show these Penrose” He said, waving the papers at him. “And apparently he has important things to discuss with me.”

“Sounds dull.”

“It probably will be.” Renly agreed. “Perhaps even more dull than those papers I've been looking at all morning.”

“It's times like this that I'm rather glad I will never inherit Highgarden.” Loras yawned, running a hand through his hair before returning to staring sulkily out of the window.

Renly laughed. “Well do you have anything better planned for the afternoon then? You look bored out of your wits at the moment.”

“I was thinking about seeking out one of the squires and getting some practice in.”

Renly laughed incredulously, gesturing out to the weather outside. “In this?”

Loras shrugged. “It's only rain. It's hardly cold out.”

Renly couldn't argue with that. The days were hot and humid. Even the rain felt warm to the touch. “Well suit yourself. Rather you than me!”

Loras smiled. “I'll come find you later” he said, jumping down from the window ledge and heading off down the corridor, seemingly in much better spirits now he was off to do something he enjoyed.

Renly couldn't help but laugh as he made his way to Penrose' study. He ought to be surprised at Loras braving even this violent weather all for the sake of practising with a sword for a couple of hours, but he knew Loras far too well to be surprised. Practice with the master at arms had halted for the duration of the tourney, and watching the great lords and knights who had come to compete had only served to make Loras more restless. His squire had high standards it seemed, and high standards required practice, in all weathers apparently.

Renly was half way to Penrose's study when he heard voices giggling in the corridor up ahead. He knew he ought to carry on walking, but curiosity got the better of him. He stopped out of sight, listening to the tittering group of girls, presumably serving girls or maids.

One of the voices Renly recognised. She was a serving girl who'd been in Renly's employ for a few years now. Robert had paid her rather a lot of unwanted attention at last weeks feast if he remembered correctly.

Catching a few words, he sighed when he realised they were talking about Loras. That was the only thing the girls of his household seemed to discuss nowadays and it was exactly what Renly didn't particularly want to hear.

“He's beautiful” One of them was saying. “I'd say he's much more attractive than that young lord from Blackhaven you seemed to favour Celia.”

One of sighed dreamily. “You mean Lord Beric, and he looked at me once last week, actually looked at me.”

Renly couldn't help but smile. He personally had to agree with the first girl, though it would be hard not to see the appeal that Beric Dondarrion also had.

The girls laughed. “Stop being silly Celia! He probably was just being polite was all.”

“Well a girl can dream!” the seemingly lovestruck girl retorted.

“But lord Renly's better looking than all of them.” one of them piped up, the girl whose voice Renly thought he recognised.

Renly grinned. It seemed the girl had taste.

“And you said my dreams of Lord Beric were hopeless!” the girl Renly now assumed to be Celia laughed. “You must have heard what the kitchen girls were saying this morning?”

“No??” The girl asked, and Celia's voice dropped to a whisper.

Renly winced. He could no longer hear what they were saying but he didn't think he needed to.

He was just about to turn back when one of them squealed, and they all burst into laughter.

“Where did she hear that?” the girl asked, incredulity in her voice.

“Well...” the girl paused for effect. “Gwen heard it from Roslina, and she was told by that new girl who works in the pantry, you know, the ugly one? Apparently she overheard one of the serving girls from Sunspear laughing about it. And I can well believe it, you know Gwen herself spent months practically throwing herself at him a while back, and he never batted an eyelid.”

She had? Renly frowned. That was news to him. The name didn't even ring a bell with him. He wondered fleetingly if he'd hurt the poor girl's feelings by not noticing her interest. He knew he was attractive, he was keenly aware of it in fact, but whilst he had noticed the odd girl blush in his presence, he'd never for one moment noticed that one of the servants was apparently throwing herself at him, to use the girl's expression.

He sighed, unsure of whether he wished he _had_ noticed. Maybe he'd have even taken her up on the offer. He'd probably have to marry someday, and as such would be required to at least feign interest in women. Perhaps he ought to get some practice in before it became inevitable. A serving girl might not laugh at him like a proud high-born one might.

Or at least not to his face anyway.

Renly was sure they would laugh about it afterwards, if he failed to bed the girl that was. He cringed slightly as he recalled the nickname the Lannister imp had thrown in the face of Edmure Tully at the tourney, imagining the serving girls calling him something similar, sharing yet more gossip about him.

He didn't think his pride could endure it.

Sighing, he turned on his heel, determined to go the long way round to Penrose' study rather than face the girls and see them try to hide the fact that they had been whispering about him.

Continuing walking, he tried to push it to the back of his mind. It was only mindless gossip, and as such it would probably stay amongst the servants. Soon it would be forgotten about and the servants would find something else worth talking about. Or so Renly tried to tell himself.

Still, it stung a little, hearing his servants laugh about him like that. Perhaps what stung more was that Renly knew what they were saying was true.

Reaching Penrose's door, he pushed the thoughts aside, smile firmly back in place and knocked.

.........................

Penrose almost had a heart attack when he saw the figures Renly showed him.

“How in the seven hells did you manage to spend that Renly?” He asked, face disbelieving.

Renly laughed. “It's no matter. It's hardly made a massive dent in our funds.”

Penrose nodded curtly. “True, but it's made rather a bigger dent than I expected.”

Renly grinned. “I did warn you that I was sparing no expense. You should have taken me at my word!” He laughed. “Anyway, that aside, what were these official matters you wished to speak to me about.”

“You came officially of age months ago Renly, when you turned six and ten” Penrose said, stroking his beard absent-mindedly. “Now that this god forsaken tourney is over, it's high time you visited your bannermen in their own halls. It will be expected of you.”

Renly smiled. That was considerably less dull than he'd been expecting. “Sounds like a good idea Penrose. What arrangements need to be made?” He frowned, thinking of the boring stack of papers that were already heaped upon his desk.

“Don't trouble yourself over it Renly.” Penrose said as if reading Renly's mind. “I'll make the arrangements. I know how these things bore you.”

Renly grinned. “Did I ever tell you Penrose quite how invaluable you are to me? I really couldn't find a better man to take care of my affairs than-”

“Yes yes” Penrose interrupted, waving Renly's compliments away. He was pretending not to be flattered at Renly's words but Renly could see he that the older man was smiling despite himself. “Do you have any preference as to which order we do it in? We either go north towards Bronzegate and Tarth, or south towards Mistwood or Greenstone.”

“South” Renly said decisively. “My lord grandfather did not come from Greenstone to the tourney. And they say he is growing rather frail as of late. We should start there.”

“A prudent decision.” Penrose said. “Very well. We should go to Mistwood first then as it is closest and then take a boat over to Greenstone to your grandfather, lord Estermont. I shall write to Lord Mertyn and your grandfather now.”

“Wonderful” Renly said, turning to leave. “But can we not go until after Loras' name day? It's only a couple of weeks off and it would be awfully dull if he had to spend it in Mistwood. If I remember correctly the Mertyns are not the most high-spirited of people. ”

Penrose laughed. “If it please you Renly. Do you two have anything planned for it then?”

Renly smiled. “No, not really. Though I was playing with the idea of having a sword forged for him. He's old enough now to carry real steel surely. I was thirteen too when Robert sent me my first proper sword.”

Penrose nodded. Well he's certainly got the skill to use it my lord. And the arrogance that comes with that skill” he muttered under his breath.

Renly laughed “Well we must allow Loras at least some faults Penrose.”

“I thought you two had an agreement that you didn't buy each other gifts.” Penrose said. “At least that was the impression I got.”

Renly regarded him curiously. “How did you know that Ser Cortnay?”

“You'll find not much escapes me around here Renly.” He looked at Renly rather intently for a moment before frowning. “And besides, you might recall that I accidentally sat on part of his present for your last name day Renly. It was on the way back from Highgarden, and he'd brought you peaches. He wouldn't speak to me for the rest of the journey after I sat on two of them.”

Renly laughed. “You're right. He wasn't best pleased. Well anyway. I've decided that agreement is boring. And besides, having something forged isn't technically buying something, not truly.” He paused, deep in thought. “I was thinking gold filigree handle maybe? Or perhaps wrought silver, set with gems? What do you think? It's a shame Ser Donal saw fit to join the wall. His steel was beautiful.”

“It was” Penrose agreed. “But the smith now will do just as well. Nothing too ostentatious mind you Renly. With all due respects, Loras is still your squire. Don't treat him like he's already the great knight he imagines himself to be.”

Renly sighed. “I suppose you're right. As usual... Maybe I can get him a fancier one when he's knighted. Although no doubt his lord father will make him a present of one then. I hear Loras is his favourite son after all.”

“I can't help but wonder why.” Penrose said dryly, although Renly could see the hint of a smile at his eyes. “I'll inform the armoury then shall I my lord?”

Renly laughed. “Please Penrose.”


	22. Chapter 22

As Renly had anticipated, the stack of papers on his desk took him all evening to sift through despite his best efforts.

It seemed like the entire of the Stormlands had problems. The market towns near Bronzegate had been plagued by an elusive horse thief who so far House Buckler had not been able to bring to justice. The settlements along Cape Wrath were in danger of flooding, the raging wind had torn the roof off Griffin's Roost, whilst a band of thieves were apparently using the old ruins of Summerhall as a base for their raids.

Renly considered what to do for the best. The horse thief would be easy enough to deal with. He would put a price on his head and dispatch several knights on the morrow to track him down. The damage at Griffin's Roost too was simple to solve and he would send Ser Ronnet Connington a couple of stonemasons to help with the repairs.

He sighed, Renly was no stranger to such requests for aid from Griffin's Roost. Since losing most of their incomes and lands during his brother's rebellion, the Conningtons' fortunes seemed to have gone from bad to worse and Ser Ronnet forever seemed to be asking for help. He had heard talk however that the young knight of Griffin's roost was to be married shortly to Lord Tarth's daughter, a young girl who Renly had never met, but who was the sole heir to the prosperous lands Tarth held. Perhaps this would reverse the Conningtons' fortunes. Hopefully, Renly thought, those lands had given him nothing but headaches since the Conningtons were stripped of their Lordship.

The thieves at Summerhall however posed more of a problem. The ruined Targaryen castle lay at the border between his own lands and those of both Dorne and the Reach, and neither he, the Tyrells or the Martells seemed to want to take responsibility for it. He sighed. It was tempting to do nothing and let Mace Tyrell or Prince Doran deal with the issue. But perhaps he he should at least write to them to discuss the matter, if only to appear like he was taking some responsibility.

A knock on the door roused Renly from his thoughts, most certainly Loras back from his trip outside. Putting down his quill for the evening and resolving to write to both Lord Mace and Prince Doran on the morrow, he called for Loras to enter.

The spring was back in Loras' step as he came in, soaked to the skin and looking thoroughly exhausted.

Renly smiled. It was still a mystery to him how Loras managed to get quite so much enjoyment out of hitting other squires with sticks and other various blunted objects, but he knew better now than to be surprised.

He pulled up a chair and came to sit next to Renly.

“Have a good time?” Renly asked.

Loras laughed. “Yes. But the other boy wasn't any good.”

Renly grinned. Nobody according to his squire seemed to be any good nowadays. “You should change Loras. You'll catch a chill sitting in wet clothes like that.”

“Fine fine” Loras said, rolling his eyes and getting up to pull off his soaked through things until he was in his small-clothes.

Renly bit back a sigh. That wasn't quite what he'd meant when he'd recommended Loras change. He turned back to his papers rather than openly stare at him. He really was a picture though Renly thought, wet curls falling into his eyes and most of his outer clothing now in a crumpled heap on the floor.

Loras sat back down. “What are you doing?” He asked, leaning over to look at the papers on Renly's desk.

“Problems at Summerhall” He said wearily, giving Loras a playful shove back into his seat when he saw the mess Loras' dripping hair was making of the letter in question. “I was about to write to your father and discuss what to do.”

“Summerhall isn't in the Reach.” Loras said automatically.

“Well where would you say it is then?” Renly asked, laughing. “The Tyrells insist it's not in the Reach, the Martells that it's not in Dorne, and I'm certainly going to insist that it's not in the Stormlands. You know Loras, before the great fire there, all three regions used to claim Summerhall as part of their territories.”

Loras shrugged. “Make the dornish bastards handle it then. It's not like they've got anything better to do. All they do down there is fuck up-jumped whores and bring them to court and call them ladies.”

Renly couldn't help but smile. “Did I ever tell you Loras what a talent you have for diplomacy?”

Loras grinned. “Paramour, whore. Same thing really. They even rhyme.”

Renly laughed. Perhaps it was really for the best that Loras would never inherit Highgarden. “If you insist Loras.” He stood up, yawning. “I might go to bed now actually Loras. I've had a tiring day.”

Loras rolled his eyes. It seemed his definition of a tiring day differed greatly from Renly's. “Can I stay here?” He asked, getting to his feet and leaning back lazily against Renly's pillows without waiting for an answer.

Renly bit his lip. He'd told himself this had to stop and yet he really couldn't be bothered to argue tonight. “For a little while.” He said eventually, trying to find a compromise.

“Why?” Loras asked, eyebrow raised “Is there a reason you don't want me here?”

“Maybe I want to stretch out in bed, maybe it takes me ages to get to sleep when you're here.” Renly forced himself to smile. “Does that bother you?”

Loras laughed. “You sleep on the left side of the bed even when I'm not here and you almost always fall asleep before me.”

Renly rolled his eyes despairingly at his squire. “Fine then.” He said, admitting defeat. “Must you always have an answer for everything Loras?”

Loras shrugged, grinning, “I did warn you against trying to lie to me. It never works.”

“That's what you think.” Renly muttered under his breath, climbing into bed next to him.

“That's what I _know_ ” Loras corrected, still grinning.

Renly couldn't help but laugh. He never managed to stay irritated at Loras for long. Recently he'd found that he couldn't even pretend to stay irritated. Shaking his head in exasperation, he blew out the candle, plunging the room into near darkness.

They lay in a comfortable silence for a while, listening to the howl of the wind outside and the thunder rolling overhead.

“Why do you like this weather so much Renly?” Loras asked after a time, rolling over to face him.

Renly smiled. “Storms are exciting. Imagine, even now, a silk merchant might be navigating a path through the treacherous rocks in Shipbreaker bay, clinging onto the wheel as the rain lashes at his face and the waves crash against the hull, threatening to throw him overboard any moment. Or maybe there's a tradesman sheltering in his wagon out in the Storm Woods, the wind tearing at his clothes, and his horses rearing at every crash of thunder.”

Loras rolled his eyes. “You're making stuff up.”

Renly sighed. “Life's more interesting when you tell stories. Why do you prefer the sunshine then?”

Loras shrugged “Because I grew up with it I guess. Because it's warm.”

“You really are the most creative person I've ever met Loras.”

Loras laughed. “Stop complaining, you asked me a question and I answered it. Truthfully. That's a great deal more than you do sometimes.”

Renly shoved him under the covers. “Will you ever just drop it and go to sleep?”

“Fine. Fine.” Loras indulged him for once. “Whatever you like.”

Renly sighed and tried to get comfortable, closing his eyes and looking forward to being able to get some sleep.

........................................

The weather however seemed to have other ideas. It seemed like Renly had lain awake for hours, the wind whistling through the shutters and the waves crashing against the walls seemingly determined to prevent him getting any rest.

He sighed and rolled over, giving up on sleep for the time being. “Loras.” he whispered into the darkness. “Are you asleep?”

“No. And I'm still wondering quite why you seem to love this weather so much.” Loras sounded like he had likely never got to sleep either.

Renly laughed. “Does it frighten you?” He asked, not being able to resist winding Loras up a little.

“No.” Loras snorted. “It's just loud and annoying. And everyone insists you have to stay indoors. I've never found it _frightening_.”

“Not even when you first came to Storm's End?” Renly said, propping himself up on a pillow.

“You know I wouldn't admit it even if I had.”

Renly laughed. “That is true. But I was curious. What did you first think of Storm's End then if not that the storms were terrifying?”

“I wasn't too impressed to be honest. You weren't here when I arrived, apparently you were off gallivanting on a beach somewhere. And Penrose irritated me. Come to think of it, he still irritates me. He spoke to me like a was some spoilt child when I first came here from Highgarden.”

“Well...” Renly couldn't help himself.

Loras whacked him over the head with his pillow. “As if you can talk. Your king brother gave you a Lordship for your seventh name day. Bit extravagant don't you think?”

Renly laughed. “True. But if it makes you feel better, Penrose used to lose his patience with me too sometimes. When I'd rather play games than do anything vaguely useful.”

“Doesn't sound like either of you have changed much then.”

It was Renly's turn to hit Loras with the pillow. “Is that what you thought of me then when you arrived?” He asked, grinning. “That I didn't do anything vaguely useful?”

Loras laughed. “Maybe a little bit. But everyone here assured me otherwise. I'd barely been shown to my room and the chambermaid was singing your praises.”

Renly grinned. “What did she say about me?”

“Oh, all the usual. Something about how you're the kindest man she'd ever met and how handsome you are, how charming, how witty.”

Renly laughed. “And do you agree?”

“of course I do. I spend a lot more time with you than I have to don't I?”

Renly smiled. He was used to kind words and compliments but somehow they meant more coming from Loras. His squire's words made him feel warm somehow and he felt a sudden rush of affection for him. “And you like it here don't you Loras?”

“That's a ridiculous question Renly. Have I ever asked to go home?”

“But it must have been hard at first.” Renly said.

Loras was silent for a moment. “I was homesick for a while” he admitted after a time, “I used to miss Margaery terribly.”

“Do you not miss her now then?”

“I guess I do. But somehow it doesn't hurt like it used to.” He reached out as if to touch Renly's arm, sincerity in his voice for once.

Renly shifted awkwardly away from his touch, and Loras' arm came to rest on the covers instead. He felt a stab of guilt. Loras was being so open with him, and here he was hiding things from him. He would find out eventually Renly suspected, would hear gossip in the courtyard, a giggling serving girl filling him in on the strange rumours that surrounded their handsome young lord. He wondered whether Loras would feel betrayed at having to hear such things from others, rather than from himself.

Probably he thought. Loras took offence easily.

Loras sat up slightly as if sensing Renly's discomfort. “Are you sure you're alright Renly?” He asked.

“What do you mean?” Renly responded stiffly.

“I don't know. You haven't seemed yourself recently. And you're acting like there's something you're not telling me.”

Renly sighed. “You wouldn't understand.” He said eventually.

“You could let me try.” Loras said quietly.

Renly bit back another sigh. He didn't know what to say for the best. Say nothing and Loras would be hurt, disappointed in his lack of confidence in him. Say too much and Loras would recoil from him, disgusted and not wanting to be near him again.

“Alright” Renly said quietly, to the ceiling more than to Loras himself. “I guess I could let you try to understand.” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “I... well I might have got myself into a rather compromising position after the feast last week.” He took a deep breath. “With one of the Dornish squires.”

He'd said it now and he couldn't take it back. He cringed, waiting for Loras to react to his words, sure any moment that he was going to sit up in horror, and turn away from Renly, disgusted that Renly would do such things with a man. And that was only the half of it Renly thought sadly, who knows how horrified his squire would be if he knew the extent of his feelings towards him in particular.

He was surprised thus when Loras remained silent for a time. He glanced up at his face but it was too dark to read his expression.

“With a boy?” Loras said eventually. “From Dorne?”

Renly forced himself to nod, feeling the shame creep into his cheeks. “Oberyn Martell's squire. I don't know his name.”

“You didn't even know his name?” Loras' voice was quiet. “And yet you... But why?”

Renly continued to stare up at the ceiling. “because he was there I guess.” and because I needed to stop thinking about you, he added silently to himself. The admission, even if only to himself, made him cringe in shame.

“Because he was there.” Loras echoed Renly's words softly before a bitter edge crept into his voice. “You're right Renly. I don't understand.”

And with that he rolled over, turning his back to Renly and leaving him feeling suddenly very alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this chapter is a little more interesting than the last :) And sorry if I can't please everyone. I know everyone has their own ideas as to what they want to happen!


	23. Chapter 23

Renly was restless for the remainder of the night, his heart heavy. He felt no better for his confession and regardless of how tightly he shut his eyes, he couldn't quite forget that Loras was there next to him, beside him but turned away in disgust. He cursed silently to himself as he tossed and turned, if only he'd been able to keep his breeches laced and his mouth shut then he would have been able to avoid this. Loras would have gone to sleep smiling at him, blissfully ignorant. 

Light was creeping through the shutters by the time that Renly fell into a fitful sleep. 

He awoke alone, the bed empty and cold beside him. 

Renly climbed silently out of bed and opened the shutters. The storm seemed to have blown itself out but the sky remained overcast, rain still pattering gently against the windows. 

He glanced down to the courtyard. It was empty. The master at arms must have finished with the squires for the morning. Indeed he could hear the distant clatter of plates echo from the kitchens below as the servants no doubt prepared for lunch.

He bit back a sigh. Usually Loras would have come back up to find him by now, having concluded arms training for the morning. He thought sadly of how Penrose had often that they were inseparable. 

Not today it seemed, Renly thought bitterly, despite the fact that he couldn't find it in him to really blame Loras for what was after all the sort of reaction he had anticipated and probably deserved.  
He dressed miserably and descended the steps to find him. Perhaps he could try to repair the damage. Surely Loras would not throw away almost three years of friendship all for the sake of a mistake Renly had made after too much wine. Perhaps he would have calmed down, he tried to tell himself. 

Loras wasn't in any of the usual places. Renly had started with Loras' own chamber, knocking on the door several times before eventually losing patience and pushing open the door. It had been empty, the bed unslept in. He had not been in the solar either, nor was he sat eating lunch with the other squires and young knights. 

Sighing, Renly made his way into the courtyard, ignoring the curious glances of the servants as he waved away their offers of lunch and surveyed the yard for any sign of his squire. He was hopeful that he would find Loras here, it would not be unlike him to continue training even after the other squires had finished up for the day. 

To his disappointment though, the courtyard was empty, save for a lone knight, sat under a tree sharpening his sword against a whetstone. His shield lay at his feet, a vivid green emblazoned with a black crow in flight. 

“Ser Guyard” Renly greeted the young knight with as much warmth as he could muster in his current spirits.“You haven't happened to see my squire have you?”

“The Tyrell pup my lord?” the knight asked.

Renly found it in him to laugh. “Yes that one. I appear to have lost him.” 

“Not since this morning my lord. He was with the other squires, mine own included. He seemed in a bit of a strop.”

“Sounds about right.” Renly said, frowning. 

“I am at your service if you need someone to fetch him my lord.” The knight got to his feet and bowed with a flourish. 

Renly considered him for a moment. He was an ambitious, handsome young man, the youngest son of his bannerman Lord Morrigen of Crows Nest, and a recent addition to the guard at Storm's End. Renly knew very little about him, save for the fact that he fought well, but sang absolutely terribly. The man had the unfortunate habit of composing songs and poems and then insisting on performing them at meal times. 

“That would be much appreciated.” Renly said eventually. It couldn't hurt to have an extra pair of hands and Renly thought it unlikely that he would inflict his singing on him quite this early in the day. 

The knight nodded eagerly, and they parted to search separate areas of the grounds, Ser Guyard even riding up to the outer gates to check with the guards there whether they had seen him. 

“None have my lord.” The knight informed Renly when he reported back. “But he must be here somewhere. He can't have left the castle or the guards would have seen him. Not unless he jumped from the walls.” he laughed. 

That gave Renly a thought. He glanced upwards. “I know where I haven't looked.” He said, more to himself than the knight, and he turned back towards the castle, Ser Guyard dutifully at his heels. 

Despite Renly's insistences, Ser Guyard accompanied Renly up the steps that led to the parapets and Renly got the feeling that the knight was rather pleased with himself for speaking so extendedly with his liege lord. 

“Does anyone ever even come up here my lord?” He asked, as they began to climb the steps. 

Renly laughed. “I used too. Often. Surely you must be used to steps Ser Guyard? I have never had the honour of visiting your home but I fear Crows Nest must have many judging by its name.”

“It does my lord. It would be an honour to show it to you sometime my lord, if you cared to visit.” 

“That would please me greatly Ser Guyard” Renly smiled at him. “As a matter of fact I am to leave for a tour of the Stormlands in less than a moon. You may form part of my personal guard if it please you.”

The young man seemed pleased, evidently hopeful that he was currying favour with Renly. 

“So is he any good with a sword my squire?” Renly asked, trying to make conversation as they came to the final flight of stairs. 

“As a knight I can't say I see much of the squires my lord.” He admitted, chest swelling with pride as he spoke of his knighthood. “But my squire Narbert, Lord Grandison's son my lord, admits if rather grudgingly that he is one of the best among them.” 

Renly smiled despite his misery. Ser Guyard's words made him feel prouder than any lord had right to be about their squire. The smile didn't leave his face even as Ser Guyard began to prattle on about a particular song he was currently writing about King Robert's valiant deeds.

Renly was glad though when they reached the top and Ser Guyard finally ceased his ramblings as they made their way around the battlements, looking for any sign of Loras. 

They found him in the most secluded part of the parapets, sat very still on the edge of the battlements themselves, and staring moodily out to sea. He didn't appear to have noticed them, seemingly wrapped up in his own thoughts. 

“Shall I call him for you my lord?” Ser Guyard said.

“No Ser.” Renly put a hand on the knights arm to caution him. He didn't want to startle Loras. It was a long way to fall. 

Loras swung round at the sound of Renly's voice however, and for a fleeting moment Renly thought he saw his eyes light up before his face fell and he regarded Renly sulkily. “My lord?” He asked stiffly, eyeing him and Ser Guyard warily. 

Renly winced. That stung more than he would have anticipated. He hadn't heard Loras address him with his title for years now, except when he was poking fun at him. He glanced up at Loras' face, his squire certainly wasn't jesting now. 

Ser Guyard too seemed to have noticed Loras' sour mood. He took his leave rather quickly, raising an eyebrow and evidently assuming Loras was in trouble for something. 

Loras glared after him. 

Renly sighed. It seemed that nobody was to be spared the repercussions of Loras' mood, not even innocent bystanders like Ser Guyard. He moved to sit beside him, not even noticing the mess the damp walls were making of his clothes. 

Renly laughed nervously, trying to lighten the air. “What's Ser Guyard done to make you glare at him so Loras? I dare say you'll join him as a knight soon enough, and a better one probably. There's no need for envy.”

Loras just looked at him disdainfully and Renly shrunk under his gaze. He ought not to have said anything he thought bitterly. he had much preferred Loras' wrath when it was partly directed at Ser Guyard rather than solely towards him. 

Renly bit back a sigh, sorely wishing that he had kept his mouth shut last night. The servants would have probably informed him sooner or later about the incident with the dornish boy, but perhaps Loras would have dismissed such talk as mindless rumours and given Renly the benefit of the doubt. He should have learnt long ago in court that telling the truth was never advisable. He ought to have known better. 

Renly reached out to touch his arm, desperate to close the chasm that seemed to have opened up between them.

His heart sunk as Loras flinched and turned away from him. He struggled to maintain his composure, trying to keep his face from falling in disappointment, racking his brain for anything, truth or lies, that would make Loras smile at him again. 

“Loras.” he implored. “Let us talk about this.”

Loras just stared at him sulkily and got up. “Not now Renly” he spat bitterly, walking away from Renly and down the steps Ser Guyard had just disappeared down moments earlier. 

Renly stared after him for a while before too trudging down the steps to his own chambers, trying not to dwell on the painful way Loras had looked at him as he walked away. 

He climbed straight into bed when he reached his rooms, not having the heart to even try and do anything vaguely useful. Instead he pulled the covers over his head, trying to block out all thoughts of Loras. He had used to do this as a child during the siege, when he'd been hungry and frightened, Stannis being unwilling or perhaps unable to offer any comfort to his terrified younger brother. It had been the Tyrells then too that had caused his pain Renly thought sadly, when Mace Tyrells armies had slowly tried to starve them out when Stannis had refused to yield. 

Eventually he fell into a restless sleep, dreaming fitfully of the siege, and of kind Maester Cressen and Stannis. Most of all however he dreamt of Loras, walking away from Renly like Maester Cressen and Stannis had before him.

He woke to a soft knock on his door, and sat up to see it being gently pushed open. 

He was surprised to see Loras step in, looking rather awkwardly down at his feet. “Is it alright if I come in?” He asked, and Renly was relieved to note that the anger seemed to have gone from his voice.  
Renly nodded wordlessly and they stood in a tense silence for a while, Loras hovering awkwardly by the door before eventually sitting down on the stool by Renly's desk.

“I'm sorry about earlier.” he said after a time, still looking at his feet. “I shouldn't have been like that. It was unfair of me.”

Renly sighed. “No Loras. The fault is all mine. You reacted how anyone would.” 

Loras shook his head. “No It was wrong of me. You didn't have to tell me. And yet you did.” He ran a hand through his curls, frowning. “I don't know what's got into me recently Renly. I've never been able to be patient, like you or Willas, but nowadays I seem to lose my temper so easily. One moment I'm in a perfectly good mood and then I can't help but sulk.” 

“I shouldn't worry about it Loras. I'm sure that will pass with time, and besides it wasn't as if I didn't give you reason to be in a less than perfect mood with me. ” 

Loras didn't answer for a while. Eventually he looked up from his feet. “Can I come sit?” he asked rather hesitantly. 

“Of course you can.” Renly said, trying to hide his surprise and gesturing to the spot beside him. 

He was even more surprised when Loras leant against him, resting his head against Renly's shoulder and pulling Renly's arms around him as he'd often done when in need of comfort after Willas' injury. Renly held him close, resting his head atop of Loras' curls and listening to his soft breathing.

“Did you enjoy it?” Loras asked after a while, pulling away slightly and looking up at Renly with curiosity in his eyes. 

Renly didn't need to ask what he referring to, though of all the questions he had been expecting, that had not been not one of them. “I guess so.” He said eventually. “But I'd drank so much wine that I can't say I remember all that much. Which is probably for the best.”

“Do you think it's wrong then?” 

Renly shrugged. “I suppose so. The Septons always preach that it is.”

“True.” Loras pushed his curls out of his eyes. “But they also preach that it's wrong to whore and drink. And most men do those. Why should what you did be any more wrong?”

Renly frowned. He was grateful for Loras trying to make him feel better but it didn't ease his guilt in the slightest. He imagined Loras would be significantly less blasé about it if he knew quite how often inappropriate thoughts about such a thing were directed at him. “I guess.” he said, fidgeting awkwardly. 

“If you ask me, you should be more ashamed that it was someone from Dorne.” 

Renly couldn't help but smile at that. “You think I have bad taste then?”

He snorted. “I know you have bad taste Renly.” 

“Well there wasn't much of a choice in the matter to be honest Loras. Taste hardly came in to it.” 

“I guess not.” Loras said rather quietly, a rather strange expression creeping into his face. Renly was just trying to put his finger on it when his squire grinned. “But really Renly? Dorne?? Does that make you his paramour?!” 

Renly pushed him off him even whilst laughing and whacked him over the head with his pillow for good measure. He had a feeling Loras was never going to let him live this down.


	24. Chapter 24

The weeks leading up to Loras' name day passed quickly. Too quickly Renly couldn't help thinking as he sat down for what seemed like the fiftieth time that week to go through the arrangements that Penrose had made for his upcoming tour of the Stormlands. He'd barely had time to see Loras in the past few weeks, and it had been all he could do to make time for him today, his thirteenth name day.

He'd promised Loras that they could get out of Storm's End for the afternoon, irregardless of the weather and irregardless of how many lords and ladies demanded audiences with him. And so it had been with a decisiveness unusual for Renly that he had turned people away this morning and told them to return on the morrow. Instead he had headed down to the kitchens to have food prepared for his and Loras' escapade about the Stormlands that afternoon.

The girls in the kitchens had fallen over themselves in delight when Renly asked them to prepare things they thought Loras might like for his name day. To Renly's irritation, many of the girls had seemed to have a suspiciously good memory of what his squire liked and they had all but reeled off a comprehensive list of the foods they knew Loras to be particularly fond of.

Renly sighed as he dipped his quill into the ink pot. He knew it was irrational, unfair even, but he couldn't stand the interest that all the girls of his household seemed to have in Loras. They fawned over him, blushing when they saw him and leaning in seductively when he spoke to them. It was nothing but harmless flirting Renly knew, but still it was enough to irritate him beyond belief.

Loras was not helping matters either. Almost overnight he'd seemed to turn into the worst flirt Storm's End had ever seen and he seemed to have developed a maddening habit of pointedly flirting with the serving girls under Renly's very nose, as if he knew that it frustrated Renly to the point that he wanted to tear his own hair out with jealousy.

Renly tried not to let it show. He really did his best. And yet sometimes he couldn't help but scowling when Loras flirted particularly shamelessly right in front of him. And sometimes Renly had to wonder if Loras knew he was driving him crazy, more often than not he'd glance casually in Renly's direction, all the whilst charming some besotted kitchen girl with the easy courtesies that came so naturally to him.

Renly bit back a sigh. He supposed it was inevitable though that Loras would start taking an interest in women. He was practically a man full grown now, turning ten and three as he was today. Renly could only be grateful that the flirting seemed to be rather meaningless and as of yet Loras seemed to have little real interest in the girls' attentions. Renly hoped it would stay that way.

Pushing the issue from his mind, he glanced out of the window. It looked like the squires were close to finishing up for the morning. Many of them were leant against the walls, panting with exhaustion and the very young ones had begun removing the padding they wrapped themselves up in. Even his name day had not been enough to make Loras skip practice and he'd taken himself off to the training yard this morning as dedicated as ever, all the more happy it seemed for the name day gift Renly had given him.

It was a finely crafted blade that the smith had worked hard on and yet Renly couldn't help but think it a little plain with its leather grip and alabaster pommel. Penrose had insisted however and Renly supposed it could be considered simple but elegant, assuming one went in for that sort of thing. If Renly had had his way however he would have at least gilded the pommel or added at least a few jewels.

Loras however had seemed to like it well enough, practically launching himself at Renly when Renly had given it to him that morning, yawning and still half asleep. He'd been awake enough however to feel a slight thrill as Loras flung his arms around his neck. Whether this had been from Loras' touch or the mildly terrifying knowledge that Loras was holding a sword in his hand Renly hadn't quite known.

Thinking Loras would probably be about finished now, Renly put down his quill and got up from his desk. Running his hands through his hair wearily, he made his way down to entrance hall. The kitchen girls had already packed all the delicacies they'd so lovingly made for the occasion in saddle bags for him and so, laden with food now, Renly made his way to the training yard.

He stopped when he reached the edge of the yard, leaning against the castle walls to watch the squires in their final activities for the morning. Loras' current opponent surprised Renly. It wasn't a squire at all but one of the younger members of Renly's guard, a boy from Mistwood, recently knighted. Renly couldn't help but smile as he looked on. Loras was plainly toying with him and the young knight was evidently more than a little indignant at being outmanoeuvred by a mere squire, cursing with every blow of his that Loras managed to parry almost effortlessly.

Within moments the young knight had yielded, throwing his shield down to the ground in irritation. Loras meanwhile had looked more than a little pleased with himself.

He walked over when he spotted Renly, his hair an unruly tumble over his forehead and his cheeks still faintly flushed.

“Glad to see you finally escaped your Lordship duties.” he said, grinning as he reached Renly's side.

“A promise is a promise Loras. You still up for riding out somewhere and having lunch? You wont believe the wonderful things the kitchens have made for us.” He forced himself to smile. “The girls all but fell over themselves when I told them it was your name day. I think half of them fancy themselves madly in love with you.”

For a fleeting moment he thought Loras looked mildly awkward, but the smile returned to his face so quickly Renly thought he may have imagined it.

“They're quite... forward aren't they some of those girls that work in the kitchens?”

Renly laughed. “Do they chase you around? Brandishing their rolling pins at you?”

Loras grinned. “Not quite. But I wouldn't put it past them”

“Ah the inconveniences of being attractive...” He sighed dramatically. “It's a heavy burden Loras. I should know.”

Loras rolled his eyes. “You're so humble my lord.”

  
Renly grinned. “Yes. I'd say I'm almost as humble as you are Loras. It's so kind of you to notice.”

Loras shoved him playfully. “Come on Renly, enough talk of kitchen wenches, let us get out of here.” He glanced up at the sky. “And let us pray to the Gods that the weather improves at least slightly.”

...........................................

The weather did not improve. By the time they had saddled their horses up it seemed if anything that the rain was coming down slightly more heavily and that the gentle breeze had picked up.

Still, it seemed not to dampen Loras' spirits as they rode up to the cliffs overlooking Shipbreaker bay, slowly leaving Storm's End behind them. It was a breathtaking view Renly couldn't help but think as they neared the Cliffs' highest point. The waves rolled below them, sending spirals of foam crashing against the cliffs as they broke, and in spite of the clouds, they could clearly make out the beautiful island of Tarth to the north, the faint outline of Evenfall hall just visible against the stormy horizon.

Renly would have liked to stay and admire the view but the wind was picking up even more now, no longer a gentle breeze as it swept in wildly from the sea, the taste of salt heavy in the air. If they wanted to stay even a little bit dry they would need to find shelter.

Sure enough, Loras soon found a jutting out rock that suited their purposes and, tying their horses to a nearby tree, they took shelter under it. It was hardly the ideal conditions for a picnic but Renly couldn't help but think it rather cosy, sheltered from the wind and with the soft patter of rain above their heads.

“Did you not want to invite any of the other squires along Loras?” Renly asked, stretching out and reaching to grab as many apple cakes as he could fit in his hands. “Do you not get along with them?”

Loras laughed. “They're alright I suppose. Even if most of them still don't know the difference between a longsword and a greatsword.”

“But you didn't want to invite any of them today?” Renly pressed, taking a large mouthful of cake.

“I guess I like having you all to myself.” he said, grinning wickedly at him as he too reached in for the apple cakes.

That made Renly smile more than he thought possible and he couldn't help but blushing slightly. Thankfully he suspected it was too dark underneath their piece of rock for Loras to notice. All the same, he turned away just in case, pretending that he had a sudden desire to try the honey sponge one of the kitchen girls had made.

“And what about you Renly?” Loras asked. “Why is it that I appear to be your only friend?” He raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly.

Renly laughed. “Well until recently all the knights here were older than me, and all their squires never seem to able to think of me as anything but their liege lord.” He sighed. “Apparently you're not supposed to be friends with your liege lord. It's not proper.”

Loras leant back against the rock, laughing. “Somebody should have thought to tell me.”

Renly grinned. “It's probably has something to do with what Penrose likes to affectionately call your _utter and blatant disregard for authority_.”

Loras laughed. “Perhaps.” He admitted.

Renly leant back too against the rock, feeling rather content in their make do shelter with Loras beside him. He was about to voice this opinion when he caught sight of Loras' hair. He'd always thought Loras' curls to be rather unruly, but now he could see that they were usually perfectly well behaved in comparison to the state they were in now. Strands were flying away everywhere and he looked positively wild.

He couldn't help but laugh. “Loras what in the seven hells has happened to your hair?”

Loras rolled his eyes, running a hand through the offending curls. “The rain.” He offered simply.

“Does it always get like this when it rains?”

Loras laughed. “It's alright if it gets really wet, but it tends to get like this when it only gets damp. Usually I wash it straight after so that no-one sees.” He sighed. “You should count yourself lucky Renly. It really is a nightmare having curly hair. One of these days I'll cut it all off just to be rid of it.”

He must have seen the alarm in Renly's eyes at this revelation, for he grinned. “I'll leave it though if you like it Renly.” he added, eyes sparkling with amusement.

Renly laughed nervously, not sure what to say to that.

Thankfully Loras didn't seem to expect an answer. Instead he yawned, stretching out and leaning his head against Renly's thighs, a rather unsubtle hint for him to untangle his hair for him.

Renly tensed rather awkwardly, unsure whether this was a good idea. He already had felt a rather inappropriate shiver down his spine when Loras had placed himself there. He didn't think stroking his hair would help matters. Following his better judgement for once, he played safe and let his hands lie limp at his sides.

Loras however seemed to have other ideas, and after a few moments, Loras yanked his hand up from his side and placed it in his hair.

Renly sighed, seeing no alternative now but to indulge his squire's whims. It was his name day after all he guessed, Besides, despite his initial reluctance he couldn't help but smile when he saw the seemingly content way Loras had shut his eyes. Stretched out like this, with his eyes closed and his head on Renly's lap, Loras rather reminded Renly of a cat and he almost expected Loras to purr as he ran his hair through his wind tousled curls.

After a while Renly shut his eyes too and he couldn't help but let his imagination run away with him. With Loras warm and solid against him and his hand in his hair, he could almost imagine that Loras too regarded him as more than the friends they were. He could feel now how exquisite it would be if he leant down and kissed him, tangling his hands in his hair and pulling him to him. In his imagination Loras kissed him back, sliding his hands up Renly's shirt and-

His eyes snapped open as Loras' voice pulled him from his fantasies. “What was that Loras?” He asked, blushing as he realised he was gripping Loras' hair rather too tightly. He let go hastily and Loras sat up, raising an eyebrow.

“Well if you're quite finished tearing my hair out...” Loras grinned, looking more than mildly amused. “I was just saying we better start heading back. It's beginning to get dark.”

Renly just nodded meekly, busying himself gathering the little food they hadn't managed to eat, and packing it back into the saddlebags as he tried to compose his thoughts. He felt mildly flustered, and part of him held Loras largely responsible for it. No normal squire would insist that he play with their hair. He was starting to think Loras got some strange kick out of tormenting him so. Knowing Loras, he wouldn't put it past him.

When he looked up Loras was still regarding him with amusement, smirking slightly. Wordlessly, he took the saddlebags from Renly and grabbed his wrist to pull him to his feet, fingers tantalisingly warm against Renly's skin.

Loras had been right about it getting dark. The sun was beginning to set as they set off, sending vibrant colours shimmering across the surface of the the bay. It made a pretty sight and Renly couldn't help feel suddenly proud to be Lord Paramount of the Stormlands. His lands may not have been as classically beautiful as those of the Reach that Loras seemed so fond of, but even he couldn't deny that the Stormlands certainly had its moments.

They were half way back to Storm's end, Renly following Loras at a comfortable canter when Renly felt his horse stumble underneath him, throwing him slightly off balance. He frowned, slowing to a walk and calling for Loras to stop.

Dutifully Loras rode to his side, and Renly couldn't help but feel slightly envious at how elegantly Loras had turned his filly around. He had a way with horses that Renly couldn't quite understand and was forever claiming that good riding was the key to jousting well.

“Is something wrong?” Loras asked, pulling up beside him and slowing too to a walk, letting the filly have her head.

“Something doesn't feel right.” Renly told him, shifting in the saddle slightly to try and work out quite _what_ didn't feel right.

Loras frowned and dismounted. “Hold.” he said, pushing the reins of his own horse into Renly's hands. He then bent down, examining the legs of Renly's mare. Renly could feel her shifting underneath him as Loras picked up her feet one by one, inspecting each hoof in turn.

He seemingly found what he was looking for when he examined the front left one. “She's thrown a shoe.” he said, putting the hoof back down and coming back round to Renly's side.

Renly frowned. He didn't really know anything about this sort of thing. “Is that a problem?” he asked. “Can she still be ridden?”

“On grass you could.” He glanced down at the ground, pushing a stone around with his shoe. “On this... well I wouldn't advise it.” He sighed. “It hasn't come off very cleanly either.”

“So what now then?” Renly asked, dismounting.

“We walk her home. Then we get the farrier to replace the shoe.”

Handing the reins of both horses to Loras, Renly bent down too to have a look at her front left hoof. He could just about see in the fading light that Loras had been right, the shoe was missing, part of her hoof with it.

He turned to Loras and was surprised to see that Loras seemed to be untacking his own horse, unbuckling the girth and lifting the saddle off.

“What are you doing that for?” Renly asked, rather confused.

“You're not thinking of walking all the way back to Storm's End on foot are you?” Loras laughed and went to pat his filly. “She can carry both of us.” He then proceeded to hang his own saddle over Renly's own mare's back, securing it somehow to the saddle she was already wearing.

“Can you do that?” Renly asked. “Get two people on one horse I mean”

Loras laughed. “Of course you can. I always forget you grew up without siblings. Margaery and I used to ride together all the time. It's really easy.”

Renly frowned. “Without a saddle?”

“Don't you trust me?”

Renly sighed. “Of course I do. I've never seen that done before is all.” He glanced doubtfully up at Loras' filly, who was prancing about rather worryingly. “Just tell me what to do. Do I sit in front of you or behind you?”

Loras ran a hand through his hair. “Well technically, the better rider is supposed to sit in front. But equally the lighter rider is supposed to sit behind. Seeing as I am both of those, we have an issue.” He sighed, ignoring Renly rolling his eyes at him. “I guess the weight is more important though. So I'll go behind.”

He was rummaging through the saddle bags now, eventually pulling a length of rope out and looping it through Renly's horses' bridle.

“Need a leg up?” He asked, seeing Renly still standing at the filly's side.

“Thanks.” Renly said, letting Loras push him up on to the horse's back. He felt more than a little unstable up there without a saddle, and the filly's back rather bony and strange underneath him. He trying to get comfortable when Loras pulled himself up behind him. Quite how Renly had no idea for there were no stirrups to aid him and no saddle for him to grip onto. Perhaps it was one of those things one learnt when you grew up on horses as Loras had.

“So what now? We just walk back with my mare on a lead rope?” he asked, trying to ignore the way Loras was putting his arms around Renly's middle,warm and solid against Renly's back. He was suddenly glad Loras had decided that it was better he sit in front.

“Pretty much” Loras laughed softly, his voice warm against Renly's ear. “And I put my life in your hands” .

Renly snorted. “I may not be as good as you but I can ride you know. And what do you think I'm going to do? Ride us off a cliff or something?”

Loras laughed. “You say that. But my grandfather managed exactly that.”

“What? He rode of a cliff?”

“Precisely. While hawking. Apparently it's easier than it sounds.”

“Well I'll try to concentrate then.” He bit back a sigh. That was easier said than done Renly thought. With Loras pressed against him and his arms wrapped tightly round his waist, it was all he could do to keep his mind from wandering, let alone keep his eyes on the path.

It was easier than Renly had expected though, riding without a saddle. Yet he suspected it would have been an altogether more harrowing experience had he not had Loras behind him, giving him instructions and telling him precisely what he needed to do. Loras may have relinquished the reins to Renly, but he certainly was still the more in control of the two of them for which Renly was rather glad, seeing as he had certainly failed at trying to concentrate, leaning back further and further against Loras as they neared Storm's End, enjoying rather too much the way Loras was gripping tightly round his waist.

They made it back however without Renly steering them off a cliff, and Loras immediately hopped off and went for the farrier, leaving Renly free to compose himself before he returned.


	25. Chapter 25

Renly picked up one of the letters on the table wearily, hoping it was the one he was waiting for. Prince Doran had replied to his raven concerning the thieves at Summerhall several days ago but as of yet he had received no answer from Highgarden.

Sure enough, when Renly turned the letter over in his hands, he could see that it was sealed with a wax rose, the same seal that had been on the letters Lord Tyrell had sent Loras for his name day a week previously. Hopefully this one would be more promising than Prince Doran's Renly thought as he broke the seal. Dorne had said in very certain, though not impolite, terms that they would be taking no responsibility for the ruined castle.

Renly was wrong to get his hopes up, realising very quickly as he scanned the lines that this letter was going to be about as promising as Prince Doran's had been. It was all very courteous, as he would have expected, filled with apologies and meaningless compliments. It seemed Mace Tyrell's language was as flowery as his sigil. He may as well just have written _Summerhall is not my problem_ and saved Renly the bother of sifting through his superfluous words. He could just imagine the way Stannis would be grinding his teeth if he'd had cause to read it. His brother despised letters such as these, where the writer didn't ever say quite what they meant.

Still, he would have to reply despite it being the most pointless letter Renly had ever received and so he picked up his quill reluctantly, trying to think of some equally superfluously polite phrases to return to Mace Tyrell. Two could play at this game.

He was just putting quill to paper when there was a knock at his study door.

Renly called for the visitor to enter and moments later Penrose pushed the door open and strode in, Edric tailing behind him as usual.

“I thought we agreed everything is arranged for the tour of the Stormlands Penrose?” Renly asked, barely looking up from his letter.

“Indeed it is my lord. This is another matter entirely. Your presence is needed in the yard.” He sounded exasperated.

Renly sighed. He could really do without such interruptions at the moment. They were to embark on their tour of the Stormlands in a few days now and Renly was eager to resolve the issue of Summerhall before they left. “Is it urgent?” He asked.

“The master at arms requests your presence my lord, he's having trouble with the squires.”

Renly laughed. “The master at arms needs my help with discipline you say? He's a fierce man. I'm sure he know how to whip the squires into shape if they've stepped out of line. What happened to knights disciplining their own squires anyway. Have today's squires become so feral that Lords are required to put them in their place? ” He chuckled and went back to composing his letter

“Actually Renly, it's _your_ squire he's having difficulty with.”

Renly looked up then, his attention finally on Penrose.

The corners of Pernrose's mouth turned up slightly for a brief moment, as if he'd had an inkling that that would get Renly's attention.

“Loras?”

“Yes Renly, I don't believe you've got any other squires squirrelled away.”

“Very well then.” Renly said, frowning as he put his quill down and stood up.

Penrose nodded in appreciation, holding the door open for Renly to follow him out. When Renly had passed, he bent down slightly, gesturing to the black haired child next to him. “Edric run and get Maester Jurne will you.”

Renly spun round. “Maester Jurne?”

Penrose sighed. “Yes Renly we've got some wounds that need dressing.”

Renly's frown deepened. Wordlessly, he followed Penrose down the stairs and into the courtyard.

A large group was assembled when they reached the yard, worryingly silent. As he got closer Renly could see they were huddled round a boy who looked to be a couple of years younger than himself. He was clutching his arm, leaning on some of the other squires for support and even from a distance Renly could see that he was grimacing, blood leaking from between his fingers.

As he neared the scene, Renly got a closer look at the boy. He was a big lad, sturdily built with a mop of light brown hair. Renly found he recognised him. It was Narbert Grandison, the youngest son of one of his bannermen, Lord Grandison of Grandview.

The small crowd parted when he reached them, some of the younger squires seemingly disconcerted by their liege lord's presence among them. They hadn't yet learnt that Renly was not a lord they ought to be wary of.

Renly glanced about, eventually spotting Loras stood to one side by the master at arms, refusing to meet his eyes.

Renly sighed and gestured to the master at arms “You required my presence Ser?”

The man paused before he answered. He'd never been a particularly gentle soul but Renly didn't think he'd ever seen the man so displeased. There was such a look of fury on his face that the younger squires were all but cowering away from him, hiding behind their older counterparts to avoid meeting his gaze.

“Why don't you let your squire explain.” Roughly he pushed Loras forward.

“That's probably a good idea.” Renly said slowly. studying Loras' face. If possible Loras looked even more furious than the master at arms. His usually handsome face was all but contorted in rage. He gritted his teeth and merely looked down at his feet, refusing to answer.

“Insolent boy! You dare refuse your lord's commands?!” The master at arms' voice was enough to make even Renly step back slightly. He thought he heard some of the younger boys whimper at the back.

Loras' eyes flashed, but he kept his silence. The master at arm cuffed him roughly round the ear and turned to speak to Renly himself.

“My Lord your squire here lashed out at Grandison there. Cut him almost to the bone. I've never seen such uncouth behaviour from a squire, especially one old enough to know better.”

Renly glanced over at the wounded boy. He was standing unsupported now, Maester Jurne binding his arm up silently. He had rather a smug expression on his face at the Master at arm's words.

The master at arms too seemed to notice the boys expression, for he turned on him now, voice booming. “I don't know why you're looking so pleased with yourself Grandison. Perhaps you'd like to explain as well to our lord how you let a boy several years younger than you and half your size disarm you?”

That took the smile of the boy's face remarkably quickly. Renly frowned, turning back to Loras. He was still scowling, glaring furiously at the wounded boy.

“Loras?” Renly frowned. “Do you not have anything to say for yourself?”

Their eyes met briefly and Loras shook his head, his eyes still flashing daggers.

Renly sighed. He turned back to the master at arms “I'll deal with this, come Loras” He gestured for Loras to follow him.

They walked for several minutes in a tense silence. Once out of sight, Renly stopped and sat down on a low wall, gesturing for Loras to sit down next to him. Loras hesitated but obeyed.

They sat a while, Loras still seething and Renly trying to work out what to say. He'd all but forgotten he was supposed to have authority over Loras. This was the last sort of conversation he wanted to have with Loras.

“What happened” Renly asked eventually, considering that was as good a place to start as any.

Loras remained silent.

Renly sighed. “I'm not going to bite Loras.”

“I lost my temper.” He said simply, pushing a pebble around with his shoe.

“I gathered that.” Renly rolled his eyes. “Care to elaborate?”

Loras sighed and turned to face him. “He insulted Willas.” He said eventually. “Called him a good-for-nothing cripple.”

Renly sighed and put his head in his hands wearily. “So that’s the whole sorry tale is it? Someone insults Willas and you tear their arm off?”

Loras glared up at his defiantly. “He had it coming.”

“But you just can't do things like that Loras.” Renly told him, exasperated. “It was meaningless. That boy has no doubt even met your brother. He was likely trying to do with words what he couldn't do with his sword.”

Loras scowled, opening his mouth to protest before seemingly thinking better of it. Instead he merely shifted rather awkwardly, biting his bottom lip.

Renly raised an eyebrow, sensing there was more to this story than met the eye. “What else did he say?” He asked, forcing Loras to meet his eye.

Loras hesitated, seemingly choosing his words carefully. “He made fun of you.” He said eventually.

Renly frowned. He didn't need to ask what the boy had said, he could imagine the gist of it quite well on his own. Ever since the tourney, rumours had been spreading through the castle, most of them, Renly was ashamed to admit, more true than he would have liked.

He sighed. “Look Loras. I'm flattered that you saw the need to defend me like that. But you just can't lose your temper like that. It's not worth it.”

Loras stared at him in disbelief. “You don't care that he insulted you?”

Renly shrugged. “Of course I care Loras. But it's inevitable really that people will make such comments about me. It's best that I learn to laugh at them unless I want to spend my days being miserable.”

Loras just gritted his teeth and returned to staring at the ground.

Renly continued when it was clear Loras wasn't going to reply. “It's of little consequence really what the boy said Loras. You just can't do things like that.” He sighed. “We leave for a tour of the Stormlands in a few days. Lord Grandison is one of my bannermen, and he's not going to be happy. Do you remember the Grandison's words Loras?”

Loras shrugged.

“ _Rouse me not_ Loras.” He forced Loras to meet his eyes. “And Lord Grandison is true to them. He'll expect me to discipline you.”

Loras snorted. “You wouldn't do that would you Renly?” Defiance still laced his voice.

Renly sighed. “I have to be seen like I'm taking the matter seriously. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't discipline you Loras.”

“Because we're friends.” Loras offered.

“And you expect me to treat you differently and make exceptions because we're friends?”

“Yes” He said simply.

Renly sighed, knowing he ought to contradict him but knowing it would be futile. It was his duty as the lord of Storm's End to be fair in regard to all matters, irrespective of how he felt about the individuals involved. They both knew however that Renly wasn't capable of doing anything of the sort.

It would be easy for his brother Renly thought bitterly. Stannis showed no favouritism, would never make exceptions. Nobody could ever accuse Stannis of allowing his personal feelings to interfere with his decisions. That was assuming Stannis had feelings of course. Renly sighed and thought back to the smuggler who'd dared to run the Redwyne Blockade during Robert's Rebellion. He hadn't managed to bring much, but it had been enough for them to survive until Ned Stark had arrived to lift the siege. Renly had wanted to kiss the onion knight that day and yet weeks later Stannis had chopped off the poor man's fingers with a butcher's cleaver.

Renly bit back a sigh. He wasn't like Stannis and more importantly he had no desire to try to be either. “Look Loras.” He said eventually. “I'll do my best but I can't promise that I wont have to at least give the appearance of disciplining you slightly. I'll have to talk to Penrose about it.”

Loras grinned and Renly couldn't help but laugh.

.................................................

 

Penrose was in the solar when Renly found him. He'd just written a letter to his lord father of Parchment Hall and had evidently agreed to let Edric seal it, smiling as the boy poured the wax onto the letter as carefully as a seven year old could manage.

He looked up though when Renly entered and drew him up a chair.

“Did you get to the bottom of the incident in the yard?” He asked.

“More or less. At least I've heard Loras' side. The Grandison boy mocked his brother, called him a cripple or something along those lines apparently.”

Penrose frowned. “And Loras took the bait.”

Renly sighed. “Of course he did Penrose.”

“It's of little consequence really though. Regardless of whether Narbert insulted every single member of his family one after the other, Loras' behaviour was inexcusable.”

“I know.” Renly admitted. “I told Loras as much.”

“So what action are you going to take?”

Renly frowned. “Loras has agreed very reluctantly to apologise to the boy.”

Penrose laughed. “I have to admit I'm impressed Renly. I dare say nobody could force an apology out of that boy save you.” His tone then became serious. “It wont be enough though Renly. Maester Jurne has assured me that the wound will scar. Lord Grandison will not be a happy man.”

Renly sighed. “What would you do Penrose?”

“I'm not going to bother suggesting you punish him Renly. We both know you'll do no such thing. But you can't have Loras tail behind you when you visit Grandview in the next few weeks. Lord Grandison will take it as a slight.”

“You're suggesting I leave him behind.” Renly said slowly, grasping his meaning.

Penrose regarded him seriously. “You are of course free to ignore everything I say my lord. But Lord Grandison will not be happy with what happened in the yard today and I can promise you that he will be even less happy if Loras accompanies you to Grandview.”

Renly didn't say anything. He saw the logic of Penrose' words but the thought of leaving for his tour of the Stormlands without Loras was not one he cared to entertain.

Penrose glanced over to the child sat behind him. “Be a good boy Edric and run along to the cellar and fetch me some wine.”

The child dutifully left and the door swung shut behind him.

Penrose turned back to Renly imploringly, “Look Renly, I _like_ Loras. Don't get me wrong. I've grown fond of him despite his stubbornness. But surely even you must see that he went too far today? That was how he reacted to mere words. He's an accident waiting to happen.”

“You're probably right. He'd have most likely tried to kill Prince Oberyn on the spot if he'd been there when Willas was crippled.” Renly admitted grimly.

“Exactly. Thankfully Loras wasn't there when that happened.” He looked at him seriously. “But there will likely come a day when one of his loved ones is hurt and Loras is there.”

Renly sighed. “And you think leaving him behind will make him reflect on his temper?”

Penrose nodded. “It would be good for him. He needs to learn that his actions have consequences.”

Renly bit back another sigh. “I suppose you're right Penrose. As usual. But it's not you who has to tell Loras I'm leaving him behind.” He forced himself to laugh. “And it will be awfully dull without him.”

Penrose didn't laugh back, but rather smiled at Renly rather sadly, his expression softened. “Perhaps it is for the best Renly that the two of you spend some time apart.”

“What's that supposed to mean? He asked, indignant.

  
“Forgive me my lord, it's hardly my place to tell you who you should and shouldn't spend time with.”

Renly sighed. “As if you've ever cared about overstepping your position. Besides, I've been told every lord has to have someone that tells him the truth no matter how much he doesn't want to hear it.”

Penrose looked like he was choosing his words carefully. He took a deep breath. “Your and Loras' friendship worries me Renly.” He smiled sadly at Renly, pity in his eyes. “I've seen the way you look at him. It's going to get you hurt.”

And Renly finally understood what he was getting at and felt his face burning.

“I don't know what you mean” he said stiffly, refusing to meet Penrose's eyes.

Penrose sighed. “I've been here since Robert named you lord of Storm's End Renly. You'll find that I know you better than you think. The last thing I want to see is you upset. Just remember that.” Penrose patted his arm uncharacteristically gently and stood up. “I'd better go and see what Edric has got up to.”

The door clicked shut behind him.

Renly leant his head in his hands, breathing deeply. Penrose was right he knew. Probably more right than he realised. It already hurt. Every time Loras flirted with some serving girl, whispered conspiratorially in their ear, gave his attention to someone that wasn't him, it hurt. A lot more than Renly liked to admit. Even just looking at Loras, knowing he wanted what he could never have, felt like someone twisting a knife in his heart. And he knew that these feelings would no doubt serve eventually to drive a wedge between the two of them.

He sighed. Perhaps this separation would be for the best.


	26. Chapter 26

It was with trepidation that Renly eventually knocked on the doors to Loras' chambers late that evening. He had put it off as long as possible, finding all sorts of official duties to immerse himself in that he would usually all but completely ignore. He had even resorted to seeking out Penrose and poring over the castle's accounts, which was without a doubt the dullest duty Renly had to carry out as the Lord of Storm's End. 

Eventually however he had exhausted all of his possible Lordship duties and found that he could not put off informing Loras of the decision he and Penrose had made any longer. He took a deep breath as he waited for Loras to open the door, steeling himself for what he'd come to tell him.

It took Loras a little while to open the door and when he did he was dressed for bed and holding a candle, his curls sticking up all over the place. 

“I didn't wake you did I?” Renly asked, a new wave of guilt washing over him. 

Loras yawned. “It's not important. Do you want to come in?” 

Renly nodded and followed him in, sitting himself down firmly on a chair as Loras climbed back into bed. He ran over what he was going to say for one final time, mustering his courage before taking a deep breath. 

“Loras.” He started, trying his best to sound firm. He took another deep breath and forced himself to carry on, his rehearsed speech quickly turning into an incoherent ramble as Renly stumbled over his words and found he'd quite forgotten what he'd planned to say. 

Loras watched him with thinly veiled amusement for a while before eventually seeming to take pity on him. “Penrose already told me Renly.” He said at last.

“He did?” Renly stared at him. 

“Yes. He said he doubted you had the backbone to do it.” He raised an eyebrow. “He was probably right.” 

Renly blushed. “And you're not angry?” 

“I was for a while. Quite a long while actually.” He admitted. “But I cheered up significantly when Penrose told me Narbert's wound will scar.”

Renly couldn't help but laugh. “You're incorrigible Loras. Do you know that?”

Loras shrugged. “It will be a constant reminder for him to keep his insults to himself when I'm around. It's definitely worth it. And you should have seen his face when I cut him. It was incredibly satisfying.”

“You don't mind staying behind then?” Renly couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed. He was still unsure how he was going to cope without Loras for such a long time, and a selfish part of him had hoped Loras would be as upset as he was about it. 

He scowled. “Of course I mind Renly. But despite what Penrose obviously thinks, I do actually understand that the bastard's lord father would take offence if you brought me with him on your visit.” He sighed. “ We Tyrells really do understand the importance of appeasing the bannermen. We've been having to placate those good-for-nothing Florents ever since we were given Highgarden instead of them.” 

Renly laughed. “You know I expected you to sulk. I thought you'd be absolutely furious.”

Loras shrugged. “No doubt I'll sulk when you leave but I guess Penrose took the brunt of my anger over it. Besides, as much as I would have rather come with you, there's a lot to be said for several months of training without any distractions.”

Renly snorted indignantly. “And I'm a distraction?”

Loras leant back lazily against his pillows. “Take it as a compliment. Very few people manage to pull me away from training and you're one of them.” 

“In which case I'm flattered.” Renly couldn't help the grin spreading across his face. “I wont be gone too long anyway.” He added, more to reassure himself rather than Loras. “I'll probably be back before you even notice I'm gone.”

Loras raised an eyebrow. “I sincerely doubt that Renly.”

Renly smiled. "Did you apologise to the boy like I asked you too?” He said, changing the subject. 

Loras scowled. “Yes.” He muttered grudgingly. “I don't think I'll ever forgive you for making me do that Renly. He deserved everything he got this morning and most definitely did not deserve an apology.”

Renly laughed. “But you did it? With sincerity I hope?”

Loras rolled his eyes, still scowling. “Obviously not with genuine sincerity, but I feigned it well enough.”

Renly grinned. “I can well believe it. Penrose once told me that you Tyrells wear false courtesy like most people wear clothes.”

“That's probably true.” Loras admitted. stifling a yawn. “But a little rich coming from you. It'll be a miracle if you ever say plainly what you mean.”

Renly just rolled his eyes. “You know as well as I that you can't get through life saying what you mean all the time. Some things are better kept to oneself.” He couldn't help but yawn too. “Anyway Loras, it's probably time we both got to bed. You look like you're still half-asleep and Penrose is suggesting now we leave on the morrow to avoid the storm that he's sure is brewing.”

Loras' face fell slightly at that. “So soon?”

Renly sighed. “The sooner I leave the sooner I'll be back.” He said as cheerfully as he could manage, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his own stomach. 

The frown didn't leave Loras' face. “Stay?” he asked plaintively, rolling over to make room for him without waiting for an answer. “Seeing as you'll be gone tomorrow.”

“For a while.” Renly told him, not feeling up to arguing with him. “We're leaving at a ridiculous hour tomorrow, with the aim of reaching Griffin's roost by midday. Penrose has arranged for one of the chambermaids to wake me. They wont be able to though if I'm not where I'm supposed to be.”

“I guess not.” Loras' voice was laced with disappointment. “But you'll stay a while?” 

Renly nodded and clambered into bed next to him, leaving a considerable gap between them. He might as well not have bothered though, for Loras merely grabbed his arm and tugged him closer, leaning his head on Renly's shoulder. He was stronger than he looked Renly had to admit. 

Renly shifted rather uncomfortably next to him. He wasn't sure what to think. Half of him couldn't breathe, his heart skipping a beat as Loras deigned to let him touch him, hold him almost. The other half resented his squire for forcing him to endure such intimacy, for inciting desire to course through him without any hope of release.

He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Don't you think its rather odd Loras that we lie together like this?”

Loras looked up. “Do you think its odd?” He shifted slightly, leaning against Renly's chest and wrapping his arms around Renly's neck. 

“Well- I-” Renly stammered incoherently, trying to pull away. “Yes.” He managed to choke out eventually.

Loras smiled innocently at him. “Why is that?”

“Well its just not done.” Renly tried desperately to keep his voice even, to give no clue as to the shivers that Loras' touch was currently sending up his spine. 

Loras frowned and glanced down at the way he was pressed against Renly. “Evidently It's not.” He said dryly, smirking. “Does it bother you?”

"I guess not.” Renly mumbled almost incoherently. 

“I don't mind. You claim not to either. Then what's the problem then?” Loras reached up and brushed Renly's hair out of his eyes as if to prove his point.

Renly grimaced. The problem lay between his legs but he wasn't about to admit that to Loras. 

“I'd better get back to bed.” He muttered, wrenching himself out of Loras' grip and standing up, turning away from him slightly, determined to hide the effect Loras had on him. 

Loras rolled his eyes. “Fine fine. But promise me you'll write to me?”

That made Renly smile despite his pent-up frustration. “Of course I will.” he replied, making his way to the door. 

“I'll take it personally if you don't.” Loras called after him. 

…........................................................................................................................................................................................

Renly didn't think he'd ever experienced a more dismal day. It was raining when they departed and, as far as Renly was concerned, it was much too early to be awake, let alone out of bed and on the road. He glanced miserably back at Storm's End behind them and wondered briefly whether Loras had got himself up to watch them leave despite the hour. 

He sighed irritably, forcing himself to turn his attention back to the road. It was unlike him to sulk like this and yet all he wanted to do was turn back around and return to Storm's End. He tried to tell himself that it was only the rain and early start that was making his mood quite so sour but he knew both of these things would have been completely bearable had Loras been at his side as he should have been. 

Even his escort seemed to have picked up on his bad mood, and he could see some of them exchanging curious glances, evidently wondering why their usually boundlessly cheerful lord seemed so sullen this morning. 

Renly ignored them and looked ahead. Despite their extremely leisurely pace, they would certainly arrive at the ancient seat of the Conningtons before midday Renly thought. The red cliffs that surrounded Griffin's Roost were already clearly visible, looming to the South and hiding the Griffin's Roost from view. It would be one of the few knightly houses Renly was going to visit, a nod to the Conningtons' previous status as lords. 

The knight of Griffin's Roost was there to greet them when they arrived, mounted astride a magnificent chestnut courser. He was a young man, a couple of years older than Renly, with long red hair that fell to his shoulders and a matching red beard. Renly tried to remember if he'd met him before, and thought he vaguely remembered the late knight of Griffin's Roost, bringing his children to court once when both he and the current knight of Griffin's Roost had been boys. He sighed. He supposed they were both young men now.

Renly nudged Penrose next to him. “It seems red beards are the fashion of late my good Ser Cortnay. Though I must say yours is much more impressive.”

Penrose laughed, seemingly glad that Renly had recovered at least some of his spirits. “I hear they call him Red Ronnet for it my lord.”

Renly grinned. “I like it. very memorable.”

They hushed as they approached the knight, dismounting and handing their horses to waiting squires and pages. 

Red Ronnet bowed with a flourish. “My lord. We are honoured by your presence here today. May I have the privilege of showing you around Griffin's Roost?”

Renly smiled. “I would be honoured if you would walk with me good Ser. I'm sure we have much to talk of.”

The young man nodded and came to Renly's side, leading the way up to the castle. They talked of many things, Renly asking him about the damage to Griffin's Roost caused by a particularly ferocious storm before the conversation eventually came round to the tourney Renly had recently hosted.

“It was such a shame my brothers and I were unable to make it.” Red Ronnet told him. “My father had sent me to Evenfall Hall, and my siblings were forced to remain at his bedside for he was ailing quickly.”

“Your father was a good man.” Renly said. “I was saddened to hear of his death this past month. He served my brother loyally during his rebellion.”

Red Ronnet nodded in agreement. “It's kind of you to say so my lord. He is much missed.”

“I hear he arranged a betrothal between you and Lord Tarth's daughter is that not?” Renly laughed. “I do hope you'll invite me to the wedding.”

Red Ronnet grimaced. “That betrothal is no more my lord.” 

“Such a pity. I do love weddings.” Renly regarded him quizzically. “Perhaps it is rude of me but may I inquire as to why?”

To his surprise Red Ronnet smirked. “I take it you have not met the maid of Tarth then my lord?”

“No I have not had that pleasure yet.”

“You will understand when you meet her my lord. The wench is a laughing stock of a woman.”

Renly frowned. Unless he was much mistaken Red Ronnet was implying that the maid was rather homely. He bit back a sigh. It was evident that Ser Ronnet had much to learn when it came to courtesy. And politics too it seemed. Considering the all but ruined state of Ser Ronnet's house, a marriage to the only heir of Tarth was not to be sniffed at. Renly resisted the urge to shake his head in exasperation, embarrassed for him. 

He did not comment however and merely changed the subject, turning the conversation back to tourneys and other such innocuous small talk.

Soon they reached the castle and Ser Ronnet proudly beckoned his recently widowed mother forward to greet their liege lord, his two younger siblings trailing behind her. Both seemed rather shy Renly thought, lacking somewhat in the confident airs Red Ronnet exuded. The girl particularly seemed very nervous, fidgeting with the buttons on her bodice and trying to hide behind her mother's skirts despite being far too old for such things. 

Red Ronnet pushed her forward, giving her a pointed glance. Hurriedly she gave a wobbly curtsey and smiled at Renly, gazing up at him and blushing slightly.

Renly bit back a sigh as he leant down to kiss the young girl's hand. He'd forgotten that everywhere he went lords and ladies would likely all but throw their daughters at him, desperate that he might one day marry one of them. He groaned inwardly as the girl flipped her hair over her shoulder in what Renly supposed she'd been told was a seductive gesture. It was pitiful really. Of all the girls he might one day be forced to marry, Renly was sure it would certainly not be this one, the daughter of a shamed knightly house all but entirely stripped of its lands and titles. 

He imagined this would be the first of many such attempts to seduce him in the next couple of months. And most likely it was going to get tiresome all too quickly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for separating them! I promise it wont last long :) two chapters at most really, both of which are already written and so will be updated pretty quickly :) I wanted Loras out of the way really for when Renly meets Brienne, which will be the chapter after next for all of you who I know have been waiting for that :)


	27. Chapter 27

Renly had made it as far as Harvest Hall by the time he celebrated his seventeenth name day and as such, Lord Arstan Selmy had arranged a particularly elaborate feast for him that evening. Renly had thanked him graciously, not mentioning the fact that he had been to so many feasts in the past couple of months that he had quite honestly lost count of the number. He imagined that he could dance in his sleep by now; the steps of every dance had become second nature to him as he swirled girl after girl around hall after hall, their names and faces all blurring into one. 

He smiled though as he thought back to just how welcoming all of his bannermen had been. Each and every one of the Stormlords had been gracious towards him and they had evidently appreciated Renly taking the time to visit each of them in turn. 

They had journeyed south from Griffin's Roost to Rain House and then west to Crows Nest where Renly had made good on his promise of allowing Ser Guyard Morrigen to give him a tour of the castle. He had not been left unimpressed. With Tarth to the north and Estermont to the south, the view from the topmost battlements of Crows Nest had been beyond spectacular, superior, Renly had been forced to admit, even to the view from the parapets of Storm's End which he loved so much. Ser Guyard had swelled with pride as his liege lord had admired his house's seat and swiftly had announced that he would write a song in Renly's honour. 

They had then briefly visited Mistwood, paying their respects to House Mertyn, before crossing the narrow stretch of water that separated the isle of Estermont from the mainland. Renly had particularly enjoyed his stay at Greenstone. His mother had been an Estermont, and despite not remembering her at all, Renly had somehow felt at home in the old castle overlooking the sea as his lord grandfather told him stories of the mother he'd never known and never would know. He had listened eagerly, not sure quite how to feel as his grandfather told him not only of his late mother's beauty but of her gentle nature and kindness. Often Renly felt grateful for having no memory of his parents, and yet during his stay at Greenstone he had found himself feeling inexplicably jealous of Robert and Stannis, for knowing the woman that he ought to have known too, and he had wondered, not for the first time, how his, Stannis' and Robert's lives might have been different if Cassana Baratheon and her husband had lived. He'd wondered whether Robert would have turned to drink in the way he had, and whether Stannis would still have been so cold, but most of all he'd wondered whether he would have been so lonely had he had a mother there to care for him, instead of being passed around various Maesters and castellans as he had been. He'd left Greenstone with a heavy heart and determined to visit his parent's empty crypts on his return to Storm's End.

House Swann at Stonehelm had been their next stop though, and Renly had had little time to dwell on Steffon and Cassana Baratheon there as his days had been filled with any number of amusements. They were a proud house but the Swanns had been more than hospitable. Stonehelm lay at the mouth of one of the larger rivers in the Stormlands and Ser Donnel, Lord Guilian Swann's eldest son and heir, had been kind enough to take him fishing whilst his younger brother had put Renly to shame with a friendly game of archery. Renly had been transfixed as he watched the young man handle the bow, hitting his desired target perfectly almost every time. He had missed Loras terribly then and had wished more than ever that Loras had been there with him, daring to think that even his squire would been impressed by the talent that Balon Swann displayed with the weapon. He'd told Ser Balon as much, inviting him to come to Storm's End some time so that he could show his squire a thing or too. Ser Balon had laughed, and making Renly's heart leap, had commented that he'd heard tell that Loras Tyrell was good beyond his years and would indeed enjoy challenging him. 

From Stonehelm they had then crossed the river and moved further east to Grandview. This had been the one place Renly had not been so eager to visit. As he had expected, Lord Grandison had all but immediately brought up what he called a vicious unprovoked attack on his son, demanding to know exactly how Loras had been disciplined. Renly had answered him as solemnly as he could manage, telling Lord Grandison exactly how furious he'd been with his squire and the lengthy extents to which he was going in order to make Loras understand the horrific nature of his actions. He hadn't been able to help catching Penrose's eye then, and he'd had to make a significant effort to keep a straight face as he detailed the various punishments he'd supposedly inflicted on Loras. Lord Grandison had not been so easily appeased however and their words Rouse Me Not had certainly seemed to hold true. Renly had been forced to use all the charm at his disposal to un-rouse them and throughout his visit, Renly had tried to placate them, dropping very unsubtle hints that Narbert would be knighted soon and granted a place in his personal guard. The boy wasn't really good enough yet Renly thought, but he was the proper age to be knighted and it seemed a fair enough price for getting his lord father to shut up. This had seemed to do the trick and he had left Grandview with Lord Grandison all but entirely wrapped around his finger. Renly had only been glad that Lord Grandison had no daughters for else he was sure that he would have been pressurised into marrying one as further apology for the apparently grievous injury Renly's own squire had given his youngest son. 

Not that there had been any shortage of daughters at the other houses Renly had visited. As he had expected, at almost every hall it had seemed that Lords were throwing their daughters at him, hopeful that he'd take a fancy to one of them. Renly had had to laugh at their pitiful attempts, nothing seemed more unlikely. Still, he'd made sure to get a good look at most of them. Regardless of how much the thought filled him with trepidation, it was not unlikely that eventually he would find himself married to one of them. The least he could do was try and find a relatively agreeable one, a girl who would be good company and who looked sturdy enough to provide him sufficiently with heirs. He would need heirs Renly thought sadly, unless he wanted Storm's End to pass to one of his brother's children or grandchildren. Joffrey of course, as the next King, would need no seat, but Tommen might. The boy had seemed sweet enough when Renly had seen him briefly at the tourney, but he couldn't help but fear he would grow up to be just like his brother. The thought of such a boy ruling over Storm's End made him feel quite ill. It would most certainly be better to find it in himself to marry, perhaps one of the daughters of his bannermen that he had so recently been introduced to, and hope that in time he would learn to appreciate her as most men appreciate a comely woman. He wouldn't be a bad husband Renly thought, even if he never came to love her as a husband should, he could learn to love her in a different way, and he wouldn't beat her or force himself upon her like some men did with their wives. Perhaps she would even be rather glad of the fact that he would likely show very little interest in lying with her. 

He sighed, looking absent-mindedly out of the window over the lands of Harvest Hall. Of course it was possible that Robert had bigger plans for him. His brother could easily choose to marry him off to a daughter of one of the more powerful houses in some political scheme of his. Renly ran through the Great Houses in his mind, making a mental tally of eligible females. He was relieved to discover that he couldn't think of any suitably aged female Lannisters. It seemed the Gods had some mercy after all. Though he took this back rather quickly when he remembered just quite how many daughters Walder Frey seemed to have...

Whoever his lady wife turned out to be, Renly hoped she would at least be kind and gentle as Lord Estermont had told him his mother had been. The Starks he knew had a couple of daughters, and from what he remembered of Ned Stark, he imagined that they would be agreeable enough. Though, from what little news he heard from Stannis' rare letters, there was talk in the Small Council of a potential betrothal between Crown Prince Joffrey and the eldest Stark daughter. Renly couldn't help but pity the poor girl, condemned to such a miserable existence so very young. A Martell might not be too bad either though he thought, although he didn't think Loras would ever forgive him if he married into the house that he held responsible for Willas' injury. Still, Renly mused, Princess Arianne was said to be very beautiful, and she might not be too unhappy married to him. They were more liberal minded in Dorne he knew, perhaps she would judge him less harshly than most if she ever discovered that he preferred the company of men to women. He shuddered though when he remembered that marrying Arianne Martell would give him Prince Oberyn as a good uncle; the thought made him feel quite uneasy.

Sighing, Renly tried to force the issue of marriage out of his mind. Hopefully it would be many years before he had to think seriously about the issue. And perhaps, if the Gods were very good, Loras would stay by his side for some time yet. Perhaps he would be able to bear marriage if he had Loras there to make light of the situation with him and keep his spirits up. He imagined that he could endure an eternity of desiring Loras and yet never having him if it meant that the young Tyrell wouldn't leave him. 

It was a reassuring thought, the idea that Loras would stay by his side for the sake of their friendship, but an unrealistic one Renly knew. Even if Loras miraculously decided to remain at Storm's End after he was knighted, one day Loras would surely marry himself. It was glory that Loras pursued at the moment but eventually he would probably want to settle down with a woman and a family as most men did. Even as a third son with no land to his name, he imagined that Loras would have plenty of suitable matches, especially if he made a name for himself as a Tourney knight. The Tyrells were famous for marrying into their bannermen, and Loras would probably be no different. The thought pained Renly and he wasn't sure quite how he'd be able to bear the knowledge that someone else would have Loras, would kiss him, hold him like Renly wanted to. He wondered sadly whether his feelings for Loras would fade when Loras left Storm's End. Somehow he imagined that they wouldn't. 

Renly bit back a sigh and began dressing for the feast, trying not to dwell on the miserable inevitability of it all. Instead, he focused on what he was going to wear to the feast and he was just putting the finishing touches to his outfit, pinning a large brooch in the form of a stag onto his doublet, when Penrose appeared at the door, a letter in his hand. 

“For you my lord.” He said, handing Renly the piece of parchment.

Renly recovered his spirits immediately, grinning as he recognised the handwriting and knowing instantly who had sent it. 

“What's that... the ninth letter perhaps that you two have exchanged?” Penrose asked in exasperation. “You've only been gone a few months. What more can he possibly have to tell you since last week?” He raised an eyebrow. “I'd tell you this is getting ridiculous but as it's your name day my lord I shall not say a word.”

Renly just smiled, not liking to correct him and tell him it was in fact the twelfth letter they had exchanged. Loras seemed to never run out of things to tell him and even though most of it was rather trivial things concerning what was going on at Storm's End in his absence and which squires Loras had beaten effortlessly that morning, Renly found himself hanging onto every word, rereading his letters so often that Renly had committed his handwriting to memory. Often, after retiring from the hustle and bustle of the feasts, he would lie in bed and imagine Loras writing them, lying on his bed maybe, or sitting in the solar perhaps, his curls falling over his eyes as he bit down on his bottom lip absent-mindedly, as his squire often did when he was thinking. 

He knew that he ought not to and that such thoughts were likely to make his life harder for him in the long run, but even so Renly found he couldn't help himself, and often he would stay up late into the night poring over Loras' letters once more in the dim candlelight. 

He tore open this newest letter as soon as Penrose had taken his leave and sat himself down to read it, estimating that he had just about enough time before the feast.

The letter seemed mainly to have been written to wish him a good name day and Renly was flattered that his squire had remembered despite his absence from Storm's End. When he'd come to the end, he folded it up carefully and put it in a small box where he was currently keeping all of Loras' previous letters. He wondered vaguely whether it was normal to cherish such paltry things as letters quite as much as he did. No doubt maidens did similarly Renly thought, young lovestruck girls who'd fallen head over heels in love and passed each day hoping desperately for the object of their desires to deign to glance in their direction or give them a kind word. He felt suddenly rather ashamed. Here he was, the lord of Storm's End, behaving like some foolhardy maid who too adored someone she couldn't have.

He sighed, and resolved to wait at least a few days before replying to Loras, to prove to himself that he had at least some dignity and self restraint left when it came to his squire. 

He was still grinning however when he made his way down to the feast, lost in imaginings of how Loras was spending his days. 

He was in such a good mood that evening that even the inevitable advances of the women didn't make him feel quite as awkward as they usually did. 

Thankfully though, Lord Arstan himself had no daughters or sisters to pursue him which pleased Renly greatly as he'd found it incredibly difficult to walk the very fine line between firmly resisting their advances whilst still appearing charming, and slighting them outright. The last thing he wanted was to offend one of his bannermen by appearing to give insult to his daughter. 

There were however an abundance of girls from the surrounding lesser houses, many of them daughters of landed knights there at Harvest Hall. The daughters of knights were the worst Renly had found. Whilst the daughters of lords were duty-bound to carry themselves with at least some decorum and restraint as was fitting of their position, the daughters of the less noble houses showed no such restraint. Quite the opposite Renly had found. 

They were particularly relentless today. On finding out that it was his name day, one of the bolder ones insisted on kissing his cheek in lieu of a name day present. The others rapidly followed suit, and Renly had found himself showered in kisses he most definitely didn't want whilst his escort and hosts merely looked on, laughing as their lord all but disappeared in a sea of skirts and elaborately curled hair. 

Renly groaned inwardly as a one of them bent down seductively to pass him a plate of pastries, the sole purpose of such a venture seeming to be to allow him to get a decent look down her bodice. She was particularly shapely, and yet this served only to make Renly want to blush, from embarrassment rather than any kind of arousal. He'd gulped though and forced himself to laugh as the table burst into a chorus of lewd japes about just how obvious some women could be. 

He'd thought he'd seen the worst of it by the time the main courses arrived, and yet one girl clearly outdid all of her fellow competitors, making her way over to him during dessert and shamelessly pretending to trip over her skirts so that she landed neatly in Renly's lap. 

Renly just laughed, and gently set her back on her feet. She was a pretty girl Renly thought, presumably the daughter of one of the landed knights or maybe one of Lord Arstan's stewards. She must have known that she had no remote hope of the lord of Storms End taking a serious interest in her, and Renly wondered briefly whether it was something else entirely that she wanted from him. Indeed, the way she was looking up at him through her long lashes seemed to imply that something else entirely other than marriage was on her mind. 

He sighed. Their smiles were pretty and yet they did nothing for him. He thought back to the letter that Loras had sent him, carefully stowed away upstairs now. Even that simple letter set his heart more aflutter than all these women combined. 

Regardless, he danced with almost all of them, resolutely ignoring the way that they pressed themselves against him as they swept across the dance floor together. Instead, he found himself wondering if Loras could dance, surprising himself when he realised that in the whole three years of knowing his squire he'd never actually seen him dance. He probably could though Renly decided, it was likely the sort of thing Tyrells were taught to do from birth, like riding a horse. 

Loras remained on his mind for the rest of the evening, and when he finally returned to his room after the dancing had come to an end, he found himself reaching for the parchment on the table immediately.

Ignoring his earlier promise to himself, he then set a vial of ink on the bedside and climbed into bed still clutching the parchment, wasting no time in composing a reply to Loras. His squire would no doubt find the antics of the various girls that night amusing and he did so enjoy making Loras laugh. 

He went to sleep still thinking of Loras, and in his dreams it was Loras who threw himself into his lap, flipping his hair out of his face in that way women seemed to assume he'd find attractive. Usually Renly would awake feeling rather ashamed of such dreams, but today was his name day and surely a man was allowed some small indulgences on his name day no matter how ill advised they were.


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Marianne and Nahid who I know have been waiting for this chapter for a while :)

It was early afternoon by the time they boarded the ship that would carry them across the narrow stretch of water to Tarth, the island that would be their final port of call. 

Renly looked forward to it. Tarth was said to be very beautiful and and Lord Selwyn very hospitable. He would be the last lord Renly would dine with on this particular trip.

He had quite lost count of the other lords that he had dined with. From Harvest Hall they had travelled to Poddingfield, home to House Peasebury. His stay at Poddingfield had been rather less amusing than some of his previous ones, for the castle all but lay in the shadow of Summerhall and, having given up on action from Mace Tyrell or Prince Doran, Renly had no longer felt able to ignore the issue. Reluctantly, for he felt Summerhall really wasn't any of his concern, he had dispatched some of his escort to clean out the thieves there that were using it as a base. They had returned victorious and much ale was drunk that night in celebration. Renly had a vague suspicion that his knights may have done little more than simply driven the thieves over the border into the Reach but he said nothing. That was Mace Tyrell's problem now. 

Parchments had been the next stop and although Renly had been glad to finally meet Penrose's lord father, he had been restless throughout their stay there. Parchments was but a few miles from Storm's End, the walls of the Baratheon seat clearly visible to the east. It had been sorely tempting to ride back there, even if only for for an afternoon.

He realised later that he ought to have sent a raven to Loras and tell him to join him there for the day, but he had not thought of that until well after they had set off for Fawnton. 

The lords Cafferen at Fawnton had been pleasant, as had the Rogers at Amberly and the Bucklers at Bronzegate. Lord Sebastian Errol meanwhile had been so welcoming that he had been kind enough to accompany Renly and his escort the short way to the coast in order to see them safely on their way to Tarth. 

The island was coming into view now, masked as it had been by the thick cloud and fog that hung over the bay. 

Usually the island could be seen plainly from the mainland but today the weather had seemed to have other ideas and so Renly had had to put his trust in the captain of the ship and trust that he was steering them in the right direction. 

It was a shame, Renly thought as he peered into the mist. Tarth was famed for its beauty and he'd been looking forward to getting a decent look at it. Still, there was some hope that the fog would lift on the morrow. The weather certainly couldn't get any worse Renly thought cheerfully. The rains at Haystack Hall had been unrelenting and even now the water was still rough and choppy, many of his men were clutching the side of the boat, desperately trying to ignore the growing nausea in their stomachs as the boat swayed beneath them. 

Renly had not suffered like some of his escort but nevertheless he too was glad when they finally drew into the port and he had solid ground beneath his feet. 

Lord Selwyn was there to greet them, shaking Renly's hand warmly and embracing Penrose like an old friend. 

Whilst the two older men were exchanging kind words and fond memories of a past he had no part in, Renly glanced around the group that Lord Selwyn had brought with him.

He was mildly curious to see the girl that Red Ronnet had so tastelessly slighted and yet there appeared no sign of her. This was odd Renly thought. At every other hall the daughters had usually been lining up to be introduced to him, whereas this one appeared to be hiding. Only guards surrounded the Evenstar and he made no mention of his daughter and only heir. 

It wasn't until the feast that evening that Renly managed to lay eyes on the elusive Maid of Tarth.

Lord Selwyn had evidently coaxed her out from wherever she had been hiding for she was sat on his right hand side. Even from his vantage point at the door Renly could see that she was a homely creature. Lank blonde hair the colour and texture of straw fell about her face, and the smattering of freckles that covered her nose and cheeks did nothing to disguise her coarse broad features. She seemed to know it too, shifting awkwardly at her father's side, her head bowed and eyes on the table. Renly didn't think he'd ever seen a person look more ill at ease than that unfortunate maid. 

Lord Selwyn rose as he approached and laid a hand on his daughter's shoulder. 

Renly had to stop himself doing a double take as the maid scrambled to her feet, almost knocking her chair over in her clumsiness. The maid can't have been any older than Loras, thirteen at most, and yet she towered over most of the men in the room. Renly had always considered himself a tall man, at well over six foot, and yet this maid could look him straight in the eye. Her shoulders were broader than his too and she made the girls standing behind her look like miniature dolls in comparison. 

As inappropriate as Ser Ronnet's comments had been he could certainly see why this maid had not been to his taste. 

The maid didn't offer her hand for him to kiss like many of the maids before her had done. She didn't even look at him, staring solemnly down at the floor as though she wished she were any place else other than her father's hall. 

Lord Selwyn spoke however in her stead. “My lord this is Brienne, my daughter.” 

“My lady.” He gave her a smile. “It's a pleasure.” 

She looked up at him then, her eyes wide. She didn't return his smile but hurriedly mumbled some courtesies back, words most likely taught to her by her septa Renly could guess from the way she recited them rather woodenly. 

Renly then took his place at the head of the table, Penrose at his side. The food was arriving now and Renly tucked in heartily. This might have been the last in a very long line of feasts but Renly had found that he had in no way grown tired of the rich food or splendid entertainment his bannermen had lavished on him. 

It was a merry feast. Now that home was firmly in sight, his men seemed eager to enjoy the last of their trip. Glasses were filled and then refilled again, until even the most austere of his guards seemed to be in good spirits. As soon as the servants had begun to clear away the plates, many of them leapt to their feet, approaching the women with outstretched hands and begging a dance of them. 

Duly the musicians struck up a tune and soon the hall was filled with music and swirling skirts. The comely girls were claimed first, those creatures who were blessed with shapely figures and pretty smiles. Their laughter rang out through the hall as they allowed the knights to spin them round, soft dainty hands pressed against the sword-calloused ones of the men. The plainer ones were approached next, those girls whose handmaidens had no doubt spent much time and effort earlier that evening lacing them tightly into their bodices and curling their hair to give them a more appealing appearance. 

Soon almost all of the women were on their feet and no man lacked for a partner. When the first couple of dances had finished, Renly could feel the women's eyes on him, many of them glancing hopefully in his direction. Smiling, he took the arm of the nearest, a remarkably pretty girl with flaxen hair that fell to almost to her waist. He'd found he'd enjoyed the dancing these past few months, even if he desired nothing more than that from his partners. 

Looking over his current partner's shoulder however Renly could see that there was one girl whoever who had not been approached to dance. 

The maid of Tarth still sat solemnly by her father's side, her hands folded in her lap. She was not watching the dancing, her head was bowed and her eyes firmly on the table. 

When the dance came to an end, Renly relinquished his partner and walked over to her. 

“My lady.” He held out his hand for her to take. 

She stared up at him, her eyes slightly wary. They widened when she realised he wasn't jesting and the maid blushed slightly, taking Renly's outstretched hand. 

She felt strange in his arms. Large and broad as she was, it felt rather like he was dancing with his eldest brother whilst her hands were much rougher than those of the other maids. They were almost calloused and although they were much larger, Renly was reminded rather of Loras' hands, roughened from his sword as they were. 

She wasn't what Renly would call graceful, but she was surprisingly quick on her feet for such a large girl. She held herself awkwardly though, seemingly unsure whether to lean against him like all the other maids seemed to have done. Renly was glad when she refrained, he wasn't quite sure whether he would have been able to support her weight whilst still managing to lead her elegantly around the dance floor. 

She even smiled back at him as the dance continued, her mouth widening to display rather prominent crooked teeth and her face becoming less solemn as some life came into her eyes. They were remarkably blue Renly noted, rather like his own, though distinctly with less greenish hues. 

They parted when the tune came to an end and Renly flashed her another smile before he was rapidly claimed by another partner. This one was much prettier than the previous one but much more irritating Renly thought for she seemed insistent on staring up at him like she was a rapid animal and he was a piece of meat. 

He could see the Maid of Tarth out of the corner of his eye as he led his partner across the floor to prepare for the next dance. She seemed to be making her way back to her seat and her lord father. She was stopped however by Ser Guyard who held out his hand and led her back in the direction she had just come. 

Renly couldn't help but grin. Ser Guyard had run around in circles these past few months to please him. Every view that delighted Renly had delighted him also, and every dish that was Renly's favourite became an object of praise. The knight seemed so eager to win favour in Renly's service that he'd have probably leapt off a cliff if Renly had expressed a liking for such an endeavour. He was unsurprised thus that the young man seemed to have taken to claiming his previous partners as well.

The Maid of Tarth danced long after even Renly had sat down for a rest. Ser Herbert Bolling claimed her next, then several of the landed knights at her father's halls; even an overgrown squire approached her and begged her for a dance. 

Renly smiled as he watched on. Self indulgent as it was, he couldn't help but feel rather flattered that his example seemed to be one that his men wanted to follow. He couldn't imagine Stannis' example having the quite same effect, though he conceded that Robert's may well have done, especially in years past. 

Penrose even danced the final dance with her, one of the very rare occasion in fact that Renly had ever seen the older man take to the floor with a girl. He wasn't surprising though. Penrose was an old friend of the Evenstar and must have known the maid as a girl. 

Renly looked away still smiling and glanced absent-mindedly out of the large windows that lined the hall. The fog had indeed lifted and the night was clear. Even in the dim moonlight Renly could make out the cliffs of Shipbreaker bay and the towering walls of Storm's End on the mainland. His heart skipped a beat as he remembered he would be seeing Loras in little over a day. 

…..................................................................................................................................................................................................

Renly rose surprisingly early the next morning, even without Loras to wake him. The sun was streaming in through his windows and glancing through them Renly could see that it was a beautiful day. 

He wasted no time in getting outdoors, eager to see the famed beauty of Tarth. 

He found his way easily to the courtyard, and amused himself by strolling along a path that led up a small hill, hoping there would be a good view from the top. He was not left unimpressed; tit offered him spectacular view of both Evenfall hall and the rest of the island below. There was even a bench there, conveniently placed it seemed for those people who wished to sit and admire a while. 

He took a seat and turned away from the hall, looking out over the island. He didn't think he'd ever seen such beauty. Countless waterfalls had chiselled their way through the rock below, and to the west the sea stretched out before him, a deep blue like none Renly had ever seen before. The water certainly wasn't quite this colour in the rest of Shipbreaker bay and he understood immediately why they called Tarth the Sapphire Isle. The beauty was quite breathtaking. 

He laughed, recalling a discussion he'd with Stannis about the island when he'd been a child. One of the serving girls had always been fond of telling him stories and that particular day she had told him of the piles and piles of sapphires that the Evenstar secretly kept locked away in dark vaults, hidden deep under Evenfall Hall. He had been enchanted and had gone straight away to ask Stannis about it. His brother had snorted and informed him curtly that it was the colour of the water, not countless jewels, that gave the island its name and that he would do well to stop letting his imagination run away with him. 

Renly smiled. He'd been disappointed at the time and yet now he was quite sure that even all the sapphires in the world couldn't match the beauty of the water that stretched out before him. 

He wondered absent-mindedly whether Loras would find Tarth as beautiful as he did. His squire seldom admitted that any place was beautiful and without fail he would compare it to his native Highgarden and declare adamantly that nothing could compare to the beauty of their gardens. He laughed. Loras' obstinacy that nowhere was half as beautiful as Highgarden never failed to amuse him. 

The sudden clang of steel on steel brought Renly out of his thoughts and he swivelled around back towards the hall. 

Two knights were practising in the courtyard below. Both were fully armoured despite the heat, the larger one among them wielding a morning star whilst the other grasped a sword.

Renly amused himself watching them for a while. The pair seemed to be evenly matched, giving blow for blow, and striving to parry the other's attacks. 

Eventually the more slender one among them held up his hand to call a halt and both men dropped their shields to the ground, the sound ringing out loudly across the empty courtyard.

Wearily, they removed their helms and wiped their brows. Renly's eyes widened as the larger one turned around. He thought he was mistaken at first, but looking closer he could clearly make out the broad features of the Maid of Tarth. The morning star was still in her hand, and she seemed to lift it as easily as Robert would have lifted his war-hammer. 

The notion seemed bizarre but Renly had to concede that the armour suited the maid better than the dress had and indeed she seemed to move easier in the heavy plate than she had in the soft satins of the night before. What struck him most however was how skilled she had seemed. The man looked to be thrice her age, most definitely a battle-seasoned knight, and yet she had held her own with ease. He most certainly wouldn't fancy challenging her. He imagined that he would be rather ashamed of the outcome. 

Chuckling, he turned back towards the sea, dozing off slightly in the warm sunlight as he tried to guess what Loras would make of such a strange woman, stronger than most men and dressed in the garb of a knight. 

It was midday by the time he woke and the sun was still warm on his face.

Yawning, he got to his feet, shielding his eyes from the bright sunlight as he made his way back to the courtyard. Loras had crept back into his thoughts and he couldn't help smiling as he made a mental list of things he had to tell Loras on their return tomorrow. He'd told his squire most of his goings on in their letters but he had saved some of his more amusing anecdotes to tell him in person. 

He was still caught up in imaginings of his squire when he walked headlong into what felt like a brick wall. 

Snapping out of his daydreams, Renly looked up and saw the maid of Tarth, clad now in more traditional dress, staring back at him rather embarrassed. He was mildly surprised to see that she hadn't been knocked even slightly off balance. He was a big enough man, tall and reasonably broad of shoulder. Most girls would have ended in a heap on the floor had he walked so clumsily into them. He supposed he ought not to be surprised though. Having seen the way she had wielded that morning star this morning, he had no doubt in his mind that, had the fancy taken her, she would have been able pick him up and throw him across the courtyard if he weighed no more than her petticoats. 

“I'm sorry my lady” He apologised. “I wasn't looking where I was going” He glanced up at her, noting how solemn her expression was. “Pray, take a turn about the yard with me, Evenfall is so very beautiful and I would be delighted if you would show me around the courtyard.” Smiling, he took her arm as he would any lady's, noting the surprise that came over the maid's face as he did so. Evidently she was not used to such gallantry. 

She didn't say anything. She just bowed her head graciously and allowed Renly to take her arm. 

Together they walked through the yard as she pointed out some of the more interesting features of Evenfall Hall. They had just passed a group of young men training, when Renly suddenly heard stifled laughter behind them. 

“Look who it is!” One of them muttered under his breath. “She's playing with men now instead of swords” 

It would have been clear who they had been talking about even if the maid next to him hadn't turned a violent shade of beetroot. 

Renly bit back a sigh. He briefly debated turning around so that the men would realise who they had just insulted her in front of, but he imagined that this would only serve to increase the young girl's embarrassment.

Instead, he steered her across the courtyard as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. 

…................................................................................................................................................................................................

She came to see them off the following evening, standing meekly at her father's side as any noble maid would as they boarded the boat that would return them to the mainland.

Soon they were nothing but distant figures in the distance and Renly turned away, looking instead towards the nearing coast. Storm's End lay to the south west, visible and impressive atop the cliffs of Shipbreaker bay. 

Renly sighed. It would have been quite possible to cross the bay and navigate a direct course back to Storm's End. He, Penrose and the captain however had unanimously agreed that it was probably wiser to take the most direct course back to the mainland and then travel the remainder of the way on horseback. 

Renly glanced down at the water below them. The water seemed calm and was rippling innocently in the fading sunlight. It was deceptive though Renly knew. The weather in Shipbreaker Bay could change as quickly as a fickle person might change their mind and as such Renly intended on spending as little time on the water as possible. 

“The maid was different.” He commented idly to Penrose beside him. “A maid in a man's armour. I've never seen anything quite like it.”

Penrose nodded solemnly. “She has... unusual tendencies I'll grant you my lord, but she's nice girl Brienne. I knew her when she was but a small girl playing on her father's steps. She was homely then, and is even more so now, but she has a good heart.”

Renly sighed. “Homely or not, Tarth itself is beautiful. Red Ronnet was a fool for turning such a union down. I dare say she'd have made him a good enough wife as any.”

Penrose pursed his lips angrily. “Lord Selwyn told me of the manner in which that betrothal was broken my lord. Red Ronnet turned up at Evenfall hall with a rose for the poor made. He looked her straight in the eye as he gave it to her and then told her that that was the only thing she would be getting from him.”

Renly laughed in disbelief. “No wonder she was hiding when we arrived if that's how visitors treat her. He seems a complete fool that Red Ronnet. It's not hard to at least be courteous.” 

“True my lord, but you'll find courtesy comes less easily to most than it does to you. I doubt Brienne sees much courtesy.” He sighed.“That's the second marriage proposal that has fallen through for her.”

“And I doubt it will be the last.” Renly said, shaking his head in pity. 

“Perhaps not.” Penrose agreed sadly and they drifted back into a comfortable silence, Renly watching the setting sun cast its dimming light over the bay. 

They were nearing the shore when Penrose spoke again. “I forgot to tell you my lord, I sent a raven to Maester Jurne yesterday to let them know to expect us tomorrow morning.”

Renly spun round. “Tomorrow morning? Why not later this evening?” 

The disappointment must have shown on his face for Penrose raised an eyebrow sceptically.

“Night is already falling my lord and we're not even back on solid ground yet. It would be very late indeed by the time we arrived at Storm's End. It is much more sensible to spend the night in an inn. There's a suitable place just outside Bronzegate. We'll be able to have a decent meal there and we can set off for Storm's End in the morning.”

Renly laughed. “This tour of the Stormlands was supposed to mark my coming of age. And so how is it Penrose that you still make all the decisions?”

Penrose shrugged, smiling. “I guess old habits die hard my lord. And besides, you did charge me with making arrangements for this trip so you didn't have to.”

Renly rolled his eyes. That was true enough and Penrose's logic was sound. Regardless, he would have much rather have pushed through the night and reached Storm's End that evening, irrational as it was.


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait for this chapter! Unfortunately I'm back at uni now and its rather high pressure here so chapters will have probably become further apart. I'm still aiming to get at least 2 done a week, and there are blocks of it already written, so they can be posted daily again when I reach those parts. 
> 
> But here is the next chapter :) and it's extra long to make up for the wait. I hope you enjoy it

Renly was almost glad that he had taken Penrose's advice by the time they reached the inn. Had they pressed on to Storm's End, he was quite sure that there would have been a definite possibility of him falling asleep in the saddle.

They dismounted wearily and Renly glanced round at his men. They looked as tired as he felt, dead on their feet as they handed their horses to waiting stableboys. They seemed in good spirits though, laughing and joking and complaining about how empty their stomachs were.

Renly found himself agreeing. The generous lunch they'd been given at Evenfall Hall seemed in the distant past now. He'd obviously become accustomed to the lavish feasts each evening.

He was just about to make his way inside when he was startled by someone calling his name from one of the inn's windows.

Renly couldn't help grinning even as he looked up. There was only one person audacious enough to call him Renly in public and it was the person he most wanted to see.

Sure enough Loras was leaning lazily out of the upper windows, smiling down at him.

Renly could only grin back at him, his tongue tied suddenly in knots.

His squire laughed. “Are you coming up or should I come down?”

Renly found his voice. “Come down.” he said laughing. “I fear I'm going to have a mutiny on my hands if I don't feed these men soon!”

Loras laughed and disappeared from the window.

Penrose turned to him as they walked in. “If you don't mind me asking my lord, what on earth is Loras doing here?”

Renly shrugged, still grinning. “I've genuinely no idea Penrose.” He laughed. “I certainly had no part in it that's for sure.”

Penrose raised an eyebrow. “If you insist my lord.” He said, shaking his head in exasperation as he made his way over to the innkeeper to discuss having a meal prepared.

Renly left him to it, surveying the room for Loras.

It didn't take him long to spot him, standing as he was some way across from him with his arms folded and leaning casually against a table. It had been over half a year since Renly had last seen him and yet he looked just as he remembered him. He was a few inches taller perhaps and his hair a bit longer and more unruly, but for the most part he looked exactly as he had when Renly had left him.

Renly wasted no time in heading over to him. Loras seemed as pleased to see him as he was to see Loras and for one gloriously terrifying moment Renly thought he was going to embrace him, in full view of the entire inn. He was mildly disappointed when he merely grabbed Renly's wrist impatiently and pulled him onto the bench beside him.

Renly laughed. “What in the seven hells are you doing here Loras? You're supposed to be at Storm's End are you not?”

Loras grinned. “You're not going to try and scold me again are you Renly? Because it really didn't work.” He lay a hand on Renly's arm. “I thought I'd surprise you is all.”

Renly grinned. “How did you even know I was going to be here though?”

Loras smirked. “Well you see Borrys there?” He gestured over to a plump boy sitting nearby that Renly vaguely recognised. Loras leant up to whisper conspiratorially in his ear and Renly was pleased to note that Loras was still significantly shorter than him. “Well he was Ser Gladden's squire but he was dismissed when he got too fat to sit properly atop a horse, and since Maester Jurne's eyes are growing weak, the old man took pity on Borrys and gave him the duty of reading his letters for him. And yesterday he received a letter from dear Penrose over there saying that you would be spending the night here.” He threw a scathing glance in Penrose's direction.

“So you decided to ride out and meet us?”

Loras shrugged. “It's not like there was anyone to tell us not to.”

Renly laughed. “And I doubt you'd have listened anyway if there had been.”

“Probably not.” Loras admitted.“You don't mind do you?”

“You know I don't.” Renly couldn't help but roll his eyes at the ridiculous suggestion.

Loras just smiled, brushing his curls out of his eyes.

“Your hair's got long.” Renly commented

Loras shrugged, smirking slightly. “I seem to remember you being rather alarmed when I last spoke of cutting it. So I left it.” He sighed. “I can't leave it much longer though. I can barely see a thing though during practice. I've had to resort to having to tie it up. You can only imagine how ridiculous it looks.”

Renly couldn't help but laugh at the thought of Loras with a sword in his hand and a ribbon in his hair. “I imagine it's very intimidating.” He told Loras. “You'll be giving the hound a run for his money soon.”

Loras sighed dramatically. “I'd show you but I don't think I could bear the shame, what with so many people around. And besides I am currently ribbonless.” He held up his hands, laughing. “I'll make sure to show you later sometime though, when we don't have such a large audience.”

“I look forward to it.” Renly grinned. “But I can't promise you that I wont laugh.”

Loras just rolled his eyes, leaning back on his stool. “You know from you told me in your letters I expected you to come back the size of your brother.”

Renly laughed. “Thankfully I'm not. Though I admit I feel myself quite the expert now on feasting. That's virtually all we did throughout the whole trip. ”

"Aside from sorting out those thieves at Summerhall though.” Loras commented lazily.

Renly regarded him curiously. “I most definitely didn't tell you that in my letters.” He said slowly.

Loras laughed. “I know you didn't. But you're not the only person who writes to me you know. It seems like you made shoddy work of it Renly. The thieves turned up in Ashford a week ago. My brother was sent to deal with them.”

Renly grinned sheepishly. “I hope Garlan had more success than we did?”

Loras laughed. “I'd love to say that he did, but it seems they're rather elusive buggers. He settled for driving them up into the red mountains. They're Dorne's problem now.” He smirked. “I admit Renly, Garlan tells me he had half a mind to drive them deliberately back over the border into the Stormlands just to give you a taste of your own medicine, but alas it seems that you made a good enough impression on him to stay his hand.”

Renly joined in the laughter. “Well I'm very grateful that your brother desisted. You'll have to pass on my thanks for me.”

“I shall.” Loras assured him.

It was then that Renly caught sight of the table next to them. It had been piled high with food and already the squires and knights had gathered around, hurriedly tucking in. “Food?” Renly asked Loras.

Loras nodded eagerly and they made their way over to the table. Loras sat down with the other squires, and Renly found himself joining him. Usually Renly would be expected to sit with the knights as was fitting of his station and yet this was an inn and Renly hardly felt that social etiquette applied in places such as these.

The squires seemed mildly surprised at their lord sitting himself down in their midst, but they smiled and shifted along the bench hurriedly to make room for him.

The talk was as lewd as Renly had expected it to be. They were eagerly discussing one of the tavern girls there at the inn, one of the boys sharing the sort of vulgar things he fancied doing to her.

Renly nudged Loras next to him. “So who's this beautiful wench they're all gushing about?”

Loras laughed and gestured over to where a young girl was standing at the bar wiping plates with a very dirty looking cloth. She indeed was rather attractive Renly thought. Her long dark hair fell down her back in waves and she had a very lovely smile.

“She is indeed pretty” Renly conceded, thinking he may as well say what was expected of him.

“Pretty my lord?” One of the boys boomed “She's bloody gorgeous. What I'd give to have her warm my bed tonight!”

The table erupted into laughter, the boys making crude innuendos that Renly pretended not to hear but couldn't help smiling at. He glanced at the boy who'd spoken. It was the fat boy that Loras had pointed out to him earlier.

Renly bit back a sigh. Somehow he didn't think Borrys was the sort of boy a pretty peasant girl like the tavern girl would go for.

“You'd be lucky Borrys!” one of the older boys quipped, echoing Renly's sentiments exactly “She wouldn't give you the time of day even if you were as rich as a Lannister!”

Boris guffawed “A man can try can't he!”

The older boy snorted. “Try all you like Borrys, but you know as well as I that the wench has only had eyes for Tyrell all evening.” He laughed, giving Loras a pointed look.

Loras merely rolled his eyes while the other boys laughed.

Renly forced himself to laugh along with them, ignoring the sinking feeling in his chest. He glanced back over at the girl, studying her, trying to find some flaw in her that would make him feel better. He frowned as he found none, the girl indeed was very pretty. She was dressed like a harlot though and Renly liked to think that Loras wouldn't go for a girl who made herself so easily available.

It seemed true enough though what the boy had said. She kept shooting hopeful glances in Loras' direction, flipping her hair in that irritating way girls seemed to do. She was most definitely interested Renly conceded bitterly.

The girl seemed to notice him watching her, so he turned back to the table. He bit back a sigh when he realised the boys were still teasing Loras about the girl.

“You interested?” One of them was asking Loras.

“I don't know.” Loras shrugged non-committally. “Probably not.”

“Why are you always no fun?” One of the boys laughed, clapping him on the shoulder as he got to his feet.

The other boys were quick to follow his example and together they wandered over to the bar in the hope of soliciting the girl's company, leaving Renly and Loras alone at the table again. Renly glanced back at his squire who seemed lost in thought.

He wondered bitterly whether he was dwelling on the girl who seemed so interested in him. He tried to push the thought out of his mind. Loras had made an effort to come and meet him tonight and here he was, seething silently over some girl who had happened to take an interest in his squire.

He was brought out of his thoughts by Penrose, who had tapped him on the shoulder. He turned to face him.

“Your rooms have been made up on the top floor my lord, to the left of the stairs.” He said. “I might turn in my lord. It's very late.”

Renly nodded, suppressing a yawn as he did so. He was tempted to join Penrose in calling it a day too. He was all but completely worn out and the thought of bed was a very enticing one.

He watched Penrose ascend the stairs wearily. His mind was made up when his eyes fell on the tavern wench and jealousy coursed through him once more. He bit back a sigh. Perhaps it was his exhaustion that was making him quite so bitter that evening.

He turned back to Loras. “I think I might turn in for the night too Loras.”

“You've no stamina Renly. But if you insist.” Loras laughed. “Do you need my help with anything before you go to bed?”

“It's fine Loras” Renly sighed. He'd have very much liked Loras to come with him. And yet he knew that Loras would probably end up staying like he did in his rooms at Storm's End. Such behaviour was hardly appropriate in an inn. He gestured over to the group of boys and young men at the bar. They were laughing jovially, all with pints of ale in their hands and a lucky few with a girl on their knee. “Stay Loras. Enjoy yourself. Everyone else seems to be.”

Loras rolled his eyes. “I didn't come to enjoy myself. I came to see you.”

Renly laughed. “I see those two things are mutually exclusive then?”

Loras shoved him in mock irritation. “You know I didn't mean it like that. I was just making a point was all.”

Renly grinned, his smile quickly turning into another yawn. He stood up, putting a hand on Loras' shoulder. “I'll leave you youngsters to it then shall I?”

“If you're completely sure you don't want me to come with you?” He asked.

“I'm sure Loras. I'm going to go straight to bed, and likely I'll fall asleep instantly I'm so tired.”

Loras grinned. “Don't speak too soon Renly. You haven't experienced the beds in this place yet.” He gestured over to the other squires. “It took us only moments sitting on mine this afternoon to tell that they're unbelievably uncomfortable!” He laughed. “Most of us made the instant decision not to go to bed.”

Renly laughed. “I assure you that I am so tired I could sleep on the floor.”

Loras smirked. “I'll take your word for it!” He got to his feet to head over to the squires. “I'll be down here if you change your mind and fancy some company.”

Renly just laughed and made his way over to the stairs. He stood watching the squires for a few moments before heading up. They seemed to be getting rowdier by the second, many of them on their third or fourth cup of wine.

The tavern girl however had made an instant beeline for Loras. She was standing next to him now, practically hanging onto his arm.

He glanced up to look at Loras' face. He seemed to be listening politely enough to whatever she was saying but he didn't seem to be giving her his full attention. Nevertheless, her face was tantalisingly close to his and she'd only have to shift slightly to lean in to kiss him.

Renly sighed, suddenly wishing he was somewhere else entirely. He turned wearily to climb the stairs.

He found his chambers easily, and collapsed onto his bed instantly.

Loras had been right about the beds. Considering that he'd allegedly been given the best room in the inn, he dreaded to imagine how uncomfortable the beds in the worst rooms were. Still, he pulled the covers up over him and shut his eyes, determined to at least get some sleep.

He tossed and turned for what seemed like hours, the slats beneath the mattress digging uncomfortably into his back before he finally fell into a restless sleep.

........................................................................

He'd only been asleep for a few hours when he was awakened sharply by loud shouts from downstairs.

Rubbing his eyes, he sat up, wondering sleepily what all the commotion was. He was sorely tempted to ignore it and try to go back to sleep, but his curiosity got the better of him.

Rising from the uncomfortable bed, he pulled on his a tunic and breeches over his small-clothes and exited the room.

He ran into Penrose on the floor below, also looking as if he'd just climbed out of bed.

“What is going on down there?” Renly asked him, yawning.

Penrose muttered something very rude under his breath, before answering him properly “The youngsters have been enjoying themselves my lord. I had assumed you were with them.”

Renly smiled. “Sadly I seem to be too tired for such amusements.”

“You should thank the gods that you were on the top floor then my lord and at least managed to get some rest.” He sighed. “This racket has been audible all night from this one. You've missed very interesting renditions of the Dornishman's Wife, the Bear and the Maiden Fair, and even, dare I say it, _the rains of bloody Castamere_.”

Renly laughed, “Shall we go and check they haven't drunk themselves to death then?”

Penrose followed him downstairs, still muttering under his breath.

The scene downstairs was something Renly imagined Robert would be proud of. Most of the youngsters were no longer standing but leaning heavily on the stools at the bar, nursing cups of wine, and those that were still on their feet were swaying wildly.

Renly picked his way across the room with Penrose at his heels, the floor sticky under their feet from the copious amounts of alcohol that had evidently been spilt. Renly wondered vaguely how much money the inn had taken this evening. More than he cared to imagine.

He was pleased to see though that Borrys, the fat dismissed squire who'd been eyeing up the tavern girl daughter earlier, had succeeded in persuading a girl to keep him company. She was a plain thing, with a dull complexion and lank hair, but he seemed not to notice or care. She was sat on his lap, her browned arms around his neck, hanging onto his every slurred word, and planting kisses every now and again on his fat cheek. Renly chuckled as Penrose merely shook his head in dismay.

“They're not even supposed to be here.” He muttered. “This is what happens my lord when you fail to instil any discipline in squires.”

Renly just grinned. He could see most of the Storm's End company by the bar and headed over to them. He scanned his eyes over the group but Loras didn't seem to be among them.

“Have you seen my squire?” Renly asked one of the more sober looking ones, a soon to be knighted lesser member of House Wylde.

“Tyrell my lord?”

“Yes Tyrell”

“Yes my lord, I've seen him.” The boy laughed, “I've seen him look better though my lord, he might have drunk a little too much this evening.”

The group erupted into laughter.

“Yeah Tyrell's taking a nap at that table over there my lord.” One of the older ones quipped in, words slurring slightly. “Loras's never been able to hold his liquor. I think he may have passed out poor thing.”

“Don't feel sorry for him!” another retorted, gripping a fellow squire's arm for support. “Did you see that wench he got his hands on? She was a right catch.”

Renly grimaced as the young men continued to roared with laughter. He turned to Penrose, ignoring the sinking feeling in his stomach. “Come on Penrose, lets go and sort him out shall we.”

Penrose raised an eyebrow but said nothing, following Renly duly over to the table the squires had pointed out.

They found him as the men had said he would be, leaning heavily against the table, with his head in his arms and looking rather worse for wear Renly thought.

“Loras?” Renly shook his shoulder gently “You alright?”

Loras lifted his head slightly and looked up at Renly, eyes slightly unfocused. He managed to nod though, before laying his head back down on the table.

Renly exchanged a glance with Penrose, and Penrose dragged Loras to his feet. The two of them then half carried him, half dragged him up the stairs.

“Lets put him to bed then shall we then my lord.” Penrose muttered.

“Yes, I think that's for the best Penrose” Renly said, shaking his head at the state of his squire. “I think I'll sit with him for a while though.”

“If you're sure that's a good idea Renly?”

Renly ignored him.

When Loras was safely in bed and Penrose had left Renly perched himself on the edge of the bed, stroking Loras' hair softly. He bit back a sigh, cursing Loras for how devastatingly attractive he remained, even when practically passed out.

He stirred after a time, opening his eyes and gazing up at Renly.

“That feels nice” he said, gesturing to Renly stroking his hair. His words were rather slurred but the fact that he was at least managing to form words was reassuring Renly thought.

“How are you feeling?” Renly asked gently, one hand still twisted in Loras' curls.

Loras groaned. “Ask me again in the morning” he mumbled. He groped for Renly's arm in the darkness, eventually finding his target and tugging roughly on Renly's tunic until Renly consented to lie down next to him.

Loras smiled and wrapped his arms around him.“Stay.” he mumbled into Renly's shoulder.

Renly sighed and let him rest his head on his chest. He resumed stroking his hair softly, listening to Loras' breathing until it was clear he was asleep. He thought back bitterly to what the other squires had said about Loras and the tavern wench. He liked to think that it had only been a few kisses Loras had exchanged with the girl but he knew it would be naïve of him to assume so. Most boys Loras' age would have taken a girl by now and many would have already fathered bastards.

Renly supposed he ought not to be so bitter about it. As far as he knew, Loras' flirtations with girls had never led to anything more in the past, but it had always surely only been a matter of time. He glanced down at Loras beside him, fast asleep now. Somehow he felt slightly less jealous of the girl now that Loras was curled up against him, his arms still wrapped loosely around Renly's chest.

Renly smiled into Loras' hair and pulled him closer. Drunk or not, Loras had wanted him to stay. It was him that he was lying next to, not some tavern girl.

It wasn't everything Renly desired, but it was something, and most likely it was the best he was ever going to get.

............................................................................................

The ride back to Storm's End was not a pleasant one. It took near all morning to coax many of the young knights out of bed, they were so worse for wear after their heavy night of drinking the night before. Even when they were mounted up and ready to go, most looked like they were cursing their existence.

Renly didn't think he'd ever seen Loras look so unwell, nor so ill at ease in the saddle. He was rather more quiet than usual this morning and in a strange reversal of roles, Renly had had to forcefully drag Loras out of bed and help him get dressed, seeing as his squire had seemed rather incapable of doing it himself.

Renly rode over to him when Ser Gladden requested that they stop, claiming to have suddenly come over all queasy. Renly couldn't say he was surprised. The young knight had been knocking back cups of wine last night as if it had been water. He dared to day that Ser Gladden would have given his brother Robert a run for his money.

“How are you feeling Loras?” Renly asked gently.

“I've been better.” Loras mumbled.

Renly laughed. “That's what you get Loras for not being able to hold your alcohol.”

“Well we can't all be Baratheons.” Loras retorted feebly. “Robert was probably spoon feeding you liquor when you were still in the cradle.”

Renly snorted. “Robert was rarely around when I was a very young. And as if Stannis would have allowed it if he had been. Stannis would have probably outlawed wine by now if he was king instead of Robert.”

Loras gave a ghost of a smile.

Renly just patted him on the shoulder and they fell into silence once more.

It was afternoon by the time they reached Storm's End, and Renly wasted no time in putting his squire immediately back to bed. To his great amusement, many of the other young men appeared to be doing the same, stumbling to their chambers, their faces pained.

Renly returned to his own rooms as soon as Loras was asleep and immediately climbed into bed himself. He had savoured lying so intimately beside Loras last night but it had exactly not been conducive to getting a good night's sleep.

It was evening when he awoke and the castle was still largely deserted, only servants seeming to be up and about.

He contemplated going to find Loras but suspected he would still be sleeping. Sighing, he went off in search of some other form of company.

He eventually found Penrose in the solar, going over letters with Edric. Renly sat down opposite them, watching the pair quietly for a while. Edric was a nice boy, but Renly had always been rather bemused at quite how much care Penrose seemed to take over the young bastard child that wasn't his own. He was surprisingly patient with the child, correcting the mistakes he made without losing his temper.

Renly thought back to when he too had been first been taught his letters. Maester Cressen had been beyond patient and had used to sit with him for hours, teaching Renly to read and write. Renly smiled, lost in memories. He wondered whether he would ever see that kindly old Maester again.

Penrose glanced up at him, leaving Edric to copy out some of his mistakes. “How is Loras feeling?” He asked.

Renly laughed softly. “He's paying the price for over indulging yesterday, but I dare say most of the squires and young knights are.”

Penrose shook his head wearily. “It serves them right.” He muttered. “Especially the knights. I'd have thought that having been feasted in every castle in the Stormlands during the past few months that they wouldn't see the need for such amusements at the moment.”

Renly smiled. “Try telling my brother Robert that. He feasts and drinks and whores every evening and still feels the need to do the same on the morrow.”

Edric raised his head. “What is it that my father does uncle Renly?”

Penrose shot Renly an exasperated look. “Never you mind Edric. It's nothing that would interest you.”

Renly grinned sheepishly, he'd quite forgotten the child's presence. It was probably not the wisest idea to discuss Robert's wenching and drinking in front of him.

“What have you got up to in our absence Edric?” He asked, trying to distract him from the topic.

“Lots uncle Renly. Maester Jurne taught me all about how my father became king, and how the Targaryens kidnapped his betrothed. It's sad uncle Renly isn’t it, that the Targaryens murdered the woman my father loved?”

Renly sighed. “Yes it is sad Edric. But your father acted honourably, he did all he could to save her.”

Edric smiled and turned to Penrose as if he'd suddenly thought of something exciting. “Ser Cortnay? Can we visit the Ruby Ford sometime?”

“We'll see” Penrose sighed. “Perhaps when you're older.”

Edric frowned. “I'll be able to go by myself when I'm a knight.” He turned to Renly. “Did I tell you uncle Renly that I'm going to be the best knight there ever was? Just like my father.”

“Is that so?” Renly grinned at him.

“Definitely” Edric said confidently, drawing himself up to his full seven year old height.”I've even started learning to joust.”

Penrose spun round. “What's this Edric?”

“As I said Ser Cortnay. I've been learning to joust.”

“And who's been teaching you?” Penrose raised an eyebrow. “I refuse to believe the master at arms has made time to instruct you on such matters.”

“The squires have been showing me how to do it.” Edric said happily.

“What sort of fool thinks it's a good idea to put a lance in the hand of a seven year old?!” Penrose said, jaw clenching. “Come to think of it, I take that back.” He looked pointedly at Renly.“I know exactly who would think it a good idea.”

Renly grinned. Penrose had taken the words out of his mouth. “Don't look at me Penrose. I had no hand in this.”

Penrose turned back to Edric. “May I ask which squires Edric?” He asked tersely.

“Many of them.” Edric told him cheerfully. “But mainly Loras.”

Penrose groaned. “I should have known.”

Renly shrugged, still grinning. “Well no harm done Penrose. Edric seems in perfectly good shape. He's probably sensible enough to start learning anyhow.”

“Perhaps.” Penrose muttered. “But it wasn't Loras' decision to make. Edric's not his child.”

“He's not yours either.” Renly reminded him fairly.

“True.” Penrose sighed. “I suppose you're right my lord. No harm done even if Loras is as reckless as he is stubborn.”

“Speaking of the devil, I should probably go and check on him.” Renly said, laughing. “He was in a bad way this morning.”

“You do that my lord.” Penrose said wearily.

Renly grinned and took his leave, ascending the stairs to Loras' chambers, passing a chambermaid on the way. She was carrying several baskets and Renly knew her to be the girl that took charge of the part of the castle where Loras' chambers were located.

He called her over, smiling. “Do you happen to know if my squire is up yet?” He asked.

She beamed. “Yes m'lord. I brought him some water for a bath an hour ago m'lord.”

Renly thanked her and continued up to Loras' chambers, glad to know that he would most likely not be waking Loras up.

Indeed Loras was sat up in bed when Renly came in, his curls still slightly wet.

“Feeling better?” Renly asked, standing at the foot of the bed.

Loras yawned. “The bath helped. But I don't think I'm ever drinking wine again.”

“I'll hold you to that Loras.” Renly said, laughing. “I've heard a lot of people say that and somehow they never follow their words through.”

Loras rolled his eyes. “Come keep me company Renly?”

Grinning, Renly went to join him, leaning back against one of Loras' pillows lazily on the other side of the bed.

Loras sighed and closed the gap between them, moving to his side and resting his head against Renly's shoulder, his curls tickling Renly's neck slightly.

Renly glanced down at him. He had his eyes closed and Renly wondered what he was thinking about. He felt a stab of jealousy when he wondered bitterly whether his mind was on the tavern girl of last night. Assuming Loras remembered it of course. He'd seemed so worse for wear this morning that Renly wouldn't have been surprised if he didn't.

He bit back a sigh. The squires who had enlightened him about the girl and her success with Loras had been very vague. He couldn't help but wonder what exactly had gone on. He wasn't quite sure whether he wanted to know the answer, but eventually his curiosity got the better of him. He mustered up the courage to ask.

“I hear that girl gave you a fair amount of attention last night?” He asked mildly, fighting to keep his tone light, to give no indication of the jealousy that was coursing through him.

Loras tensed beside him. “Who told you that?” He asked stiffly.

“One of the squires. They were jesting about it last night while you were passed out on that table.”

Loras chewed on his bottom lip. “I suppose she did.” He frowned. “If draping herself across my lap and trying to kiss me counts as giving me a lot of attention.”

“Well surely you kissed her back though?” He knew that whatever Loras told him would most likely twist the knife further and yet he couldn't help himself.

“No” Loras said simply. He glanced up at Renly mildly. “Unlike some people I don't just kiss people because they're there.”

Renly frowned, trying to remember why that phrase sounded familiar. He bit back a sigh when he recalled that those were in fact his own words, the words he'd told Loras when his squire had asked why he'd found himself in a compromising position with that dornish boy after the feast.

He squirmed uncomfortably. “I thought we'd moved on from talking about that god forsaken dornish boy? Do you have to bring it up now?”

Loras shrugged. “It always just seemed rather ridiculous to me.”

“Well he _was_ there.” Renly retorted indignantly.

Loras gave him a scathing look. “Well would you kiss anyone who was there then?”

“It's not like that Loras. Just try to understand that.”

Loras sat up, eyes flashing. “Well explain it to me then Renly. Because I'm quite sure that I don't understand.”

Renly just fidgeted nervously, not quite sure what Loras was getting at. He sighed. “What are you trying to insinuate Loras? That I'm wanton? That I have loose morals? That I'd kiss anybody just because they were there? You know that's not true.”

Loras regarded him coolly. “Well I'm here now. Would you kiss me?”

Renly laughed nervously. “It's different. The dornish boy wanted me to kiss him. He made that very clear. It's not like I'd just kiss anyone.”

Loras leaned forward so they were almost touching, his curls brushing ever so slightly against Renly's cheek. “Well then” He sighed softly, reaching up and twisting one hand in Renly's hair. “Just quite how clear do I have to make it Renly?”

Renly's breath hitched as Loras lips met his own, softly, hesitantly even. His thoughts raced, he'd imagined this moment so often, vividly, almost desperately, and yet now all he could do was reel in shock, frozen to the spot.

Loras pulled away moments later, his eyes full of confusion. “Renly?” He looked up at him, biting down on his bottom lip, his voice soft, painfully plaintive.

Renly just stared at him, his voice failing him.

A look of hurt passed across Loras' face and he suddenly he seemed smaller, nervous even, very much four years Renly's junior. “Is that not what you wanted?” He asked in a small voice when Renly said nothing, looking down at his hands. “I wont do it again if its not.”

  
Renly shook his head wildly, his breath ragged. “Don't be ridiculous.” He whispered.

“Was it bad?” Loras asked quietly, all the usual bravado gone from his voice. “I can't say I have much experience with such things.”

Renly didn't answer him. He just reached over to him, looping his fingers around his wrists gently as he pulled him back into his lap.

His breath hitched as guided Loras to him, one hand finding the small of his back while the other twisting in Loras' curls, brushing them out of his eyes. Loras gazed up at him, his breathing uneven as he leant in closer, allowing Renly to tilt his head ever so slightly to the side, exhaling softly against Renly's cheek as Renly closed the gap between them.

There was no hesitancy this time and Renly's heart raced as Loras pushed himself up against him, his hands tangling in Renly's hair as he returned the kiss desperately. He gasped slightly as Renly trailed his hands down his back, sliding one ever so slightly up Loras' shirt, feeling silky smooth skin under his fingers.

Tipping Loras' head back, Renly moved to kiss his neck, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he felt Loras pulse racing under his open mouth. Loras melted underneath him, collapsing back against the pillows and tugging Renly down on top of him, sword-roughened fingers clumsily trying to unlace Renly's shirt.

Renly had to remember to breathe as Loras arched up against him, warm and solid underneath him, his curls falling back into his eyes as Renly leant in once more to kiss him.


	30. Chapter 30

Sunlight was streaming in through the windows when Renly awoke, the light casting playful shadows across the room, their shimmering forms dancing in the light breeze that crept in through the open window. Renly yawned and rolled over, stretching out slightly, shielding his eyes from the bright sunlight. 

Loras was sat next to him, fully clothed and lounging lazily back against the pillows, the light playing in his hair and bringing out the gold flecks in his eyes. 

Renly blinked sleepily. He had a distinct memory of kissing Loras the night before and yet he couldn't help but wonder now whether it had been only a particularly pleasant dream. He remembered taking at least the outer garments of Loras' clothes off and yet Loras sat before him completely dressed, clad in Baratheon colours for once instead of his usual green and golds. 

He was still trying to make up his mind when Loras leant over and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, answering Renly's question for him. 

“You're awake.” He commented, lying down next to him and wrapping his arms around his waist. “You took your time about it.”

Renly could only smile, stifling a yawn and feeling happier than any man had right to be. “You'd be tired too if you'd spent the last half a year travelling from one holdfast to another.” He said eventually, his heart soaring as Loras leant his head against his shoulder. 

“Fair enough.” Loras laughed, the exhale of breath warm against Renly's neck. “After all feasting does sound very tiring.” His eyes sparkled with amusement as he looked up at Renly. “I admit it's no feast, but I do bring breakfast. Perhaps that will be less tiring for you.” He paused, glancing out of the window. “Or perhaps we better call it lunch.” He added, gesturing to a tray piled high with fruits and pastries. 

Renly laughed. “Is this some kind of subtle ploy to get me to stay in bed?”

Loras shrugged. “It wasn't supposed to be subtle.” 

Renly grinned and sat up in bed as Loras hopped off the bed to pass him the tray. 

Renly's heart sunk slightly as he bit back a sigh watching him. He'd all but managed to forget that Loras was his squire and suddenly he found himself feeling rather guilty. As the lord of Storm's End, he had a duty towards Loras, and yet here he was, sitting in the younger boy's bed, clad only in his small-clothes and his skin still tingling from Loras' kisses.

He ate the food Loras had brought silently, battling with his conscience as Loras leant against him once more, slipping his arm around his waist and fiddling absent-mindedly with the neck of Renly's small-clothes. He couldn't help but wonder what Mace Tyrell would think if he knew the lord he'd sent his youngest son to squire for was using him in such a manner. It was hardly appropriate and he didn't imagine that the fact that he wanted more from Loras than merely sexual gratification would mean much to the lord of Highgarden either. 

When Renly had finished his meal, Loras leant in to kiss Renly's neck readily, twisting a hand in his hair and trailing kisses along his jawline, not seeming to care that Renly desperately needed a shave.

Renly took a deep breath. “Loras.” He said tentatively. “Wait a moment will you?”

Loras glanced up at him. “What's the matter?”

Renly gently tugged Loras hands out of his hair. “Why are you doing this?” He asked, not meeting Loras eye. He couldn't help but wonder guiltily if this was Loras' way of trying to please him, duty bound as he was to obey his lord's whims no matter quite how odd they were. 

“Do we have to have this conversation quite now?” Loras pointedly twisted his hands back into Renly's hair. 

It took all of Renly's nerve to pull them out again. “Yes Loras. We most definitely do.” 

“Right now?” Loras asked, wrapping his arms back around Renly's waist and glancing up at him, a small smile playing on his lips. 

Renly closed his eyes. It was tempting to push his worries to the back of his mind and let Loras push his hands back into his hair, and yet he couldn't quite ignore his concerns. He knew that if he were to remain silent, they would gnaw away at him, a small voice of doubt in his mind that told him this wasn't actually what Loras wanted.

“Yes right now” He said firmly. 

Loras sighed and pulled back slightly so he could look at Renly properly. “What is it then?” He asked, his tone resigned. 

“You're not doing this to just to make me happy are you?” The words tumbled out of his mouth in a hurried rush. “Because you feel you have to?”

“No” Loras said simply.

“Then why are you doing it?” 

Loras raised an eyebrow. “For the money actually.” He said dryly. 

Renly snorted. “I was being serious Loras.”

“So was I.” Loras told him. “Didn't you realise I'd want paying?” He traced his fingers along Renly's arm, biting down on his bottom lip as if deep in thought. “Hmm by my calculations, you owe me several gold dragons by now.”

Renly couldn't help but laugh despite his exasperation. “That's ridiculously expensive Loras. You've done nothing but kiss me.”

“Well you pay extra for quality individuals such as myself.”

“As if!” Renly laughed. “Some whore you'd make Loras. You admit yourself that you're hardly well practised.”

“Exactly.” Loras grinned. “Us untouched ones command a higher price.”

Renly rolled his eyes. “As wonderful a whore as you'd make Loras, I was being serious. Are you sure you definitely want this?”

“Yes.” Loras told him firmly. 

“Are you sure?”

“Quite sure.”

“But why?”

Loras sighed. “If I didn't know better I'd say you were trying to talk me out of this.”

Renly shook his head. “I just want to make sure you know what you're doing Loras. My own selfish desires aside, this isn't the sort of life I'd choose for you.”

“Why not?” Loras looped his fingers around Renly's wrist.

Renly bit back a sigh. “Well you've heard the things some people say about me behind my back. The jokes they tell, the unpleasant rumours they spread.”

Loras shrugged. “Choice doesn't come into it Renly. You should know that just as well as I.”

Renly frowned. Loras' words were true enough and he thought fleetingly back to the girls he'd tried to force himself to have feelings for in his younger years. Needless to say, none among them had ever managed to incite any spark of desire in him.

Loras continued. “Besides, I wouldn't change it if I could Renly. I'm doing this because I want to. Because I've wanted to for a long time now.”

A small thrill of elation ran through Renly then but it wasn't enough to completely shake the doubt in his mind. He looked at his squire rather sadly. “You're so young Loras. I don't want to think I'm taking advantage of you.”

Loras glared at him. “I'm old enough to know what I want.”

Renly bit back a sigh. “You're thirteen Loras. That's hardly old enough to really know what you want.”

“Then show me what to want?” Loras retorted, tightening his grip on Renly's wrist. 

“That's not what I meant Loras and you know it.” 

Loras sighed. “Plenty of maids marry at my age.”

“It's different Loras. This sort of thing, well it's not seen as right.” He paused. “And besides you're my squire Loras, you're practically my ward. I'm supposed to teach you what's right, not kiss you behind closed doors.”

“You're being ridiculous Renly. You haven't treated me as your squire for years.” Loras rolled his eyes. “Besides, this is a pointless conversation. Regardless of how inappropriate you think it is, we both know you'll do it anyway.”

Renly couldn't help but smile. “Do you think that little of my self control?”

Loras grinned. “That, and the fact that I think a great deal of my powers of persuasion.”

Renly laughed. “You're right, as usual. I couldn't make myself say no even if I wanted to. I've wanted this too badly for too long.”

“Exactly. So come back here and let me kiss you again?” He gave a rough tug on Renly's wrist. 

“Are y-”

“If you ask if I'm sure one more time Renly I think I might actually change my mind.”

Renly shut his mouth hurriedly. 

Loras laughed and wrapped his arms back around Renly's waist. “Stay?” He murmured against his ear. 

Renly glanced down at Loras and laughed. “Do I have a choice in the matter?”

“No.” Loras pulled him closer and leant his head against Renly's chest, tangling his legs with Renly's. 

“It's a bit late in the day to still be in bed don't you think?”

“Why? I wasn't suggesting sleeping?”

Renly rolled his eyes. “You're incorrigible Loras.”

Loras grinned. “Would you have it any other way?”

“Probably not.” 

Loras laughed, “I always get what I want one way or another. You should have known better than to bother questioning it.”

Renly sighed dramatically. “Yes it was ridiculous of me to feel slightly guilty at pursuing such illicit activities with my squire. Foolish, mad even.”

“Well I guess the Targaryen blood in you has to show itself somehow.”

Renly laughed. “I'm only a quarter Targaryen.”

“Well it's obviously enough to make you think all sorts of ridiculous notions.”

Renly snorted indignantly. “That was one ridiculous notion I would hardly that's a regular occurrence.”

“I don't know Renly...” Loras smirked. “the notion that I wouldn't notice your infatuation with me was rather ridiculous too.”

Renly smiled sheepishly. “Was it really that obvious?”

Loras just stared at him, an eyebrow raised. 

Renly looked down at his hands. “You know, I always thought I was rather good at hiding it.”

“Well you no longer have to. Which is thankful as you really were terrible at it.” He grinned. “It probably didn't help either that you have this bizarre habit of talking in your sleep.”

Renly looked up at him sharply. “I what??”

“Oh yes.” Loras grinned wickedly. “You practically moaned my name some nights, whispering it desperately into the darkness, clutching the sheets as if they were me.”

Renly flushed red. “I refuse to believe that.”

Loras shrugged. “Well I might have elaborated slightly. Perhaps even a little more than slightly. But the gist of it was true. Just you wait, I'll have to tell you all the wonderful things you s-”

Renly didn't let him finish, pinning him down under him and clamping a hand over his mouth. He laughed. “If I kiss you will you please shut up?”

Loras nodded and Renly released him, leaning down to kiss him as promised, lifting Loras up slightly to slip the doublet off his shoulders. Loras responded instantly, gripping Renly's hair tightly and pushing himself up against him, kicking off his breeches unceremoniously. 

A shiver went up Renly's spine as he trailed kisses up Loras' neck, tilting his chin up so he could kiss the delicate skin there, tracing hot wet patterns with his tongue. “So what was it you wanted?” Renly murmured against his ear, feeling Loras harden underneath him. 

“I thought you were going to show me?” Loras said breathlessly, still pinned under Renly's weight, his curls fanned out behind him.

“You know I'm hardly experienced at such things?” Renly told him mildly, tracing a finger along Loras' jaw, voice thoughtful. 

“But you know better than me.” Loras glanced up at him, his eyes full of impatience.

“Perhaps” Renly rolled off him slightly. 

It seemed to Renly however that Loras had a very clear idea of what he wanted, for he gripped Renly's hands and pushed them downwards, arching his back so that Renly could slip his hand under the hem of his small-clothes. His breath was coming in quickly now and he clutched Renly to him with an urgency and need Renly had never seen in his squire before, kissing him fervently as he wrapped his arms around Renly's neck, his fingers digging into Renly's shoulders.

Renly kissed him back with an equal need, exploring Loras' mouth with his tongue, biting ever so softly down on Loras' bottom lip, desperate to taste him, to kiss him like he had so often imagined. His heart thundering in his chest, he slid his hands lower under the thin fabric of Loras' small-clothes, teasing a path down to Loras' hips, grazing ever so slightly against Loras' cock, erect and almost flat against his stomach. Loras moaned against his mouth at his touch, melting underneath him, clinging to him.

Renly broke the kiss, hands coming to rest just below Loras hips. “Is this what you want?” He asked panting, unable to keep a slight smirk off his face. 

“You know it's not.” Loras retorted breathlessly, his eyes dark with desire. 

Renly slid his hands down to the tops of Loras thighs. “What about this?” He asked, his thumbs tracing small circles against his skin. 

Loras just whimpered. 

The sound alone almost tipped Renly over the edge, and Renly could bear to tease him no longer. He felt a desperate ache between his own legs as he took Loras in hand, the skin of Loras' member silky smooth under his fingertips. The angle was strange to him, but the movements familiar enough and soon Renly found a rhythm, sliding up Loras' length with long smooth strokes. Loras arched his hips to meet him, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he tangled his hands in Renly's hair, gripping the strands roughly, desperately, letting out soft cries that Renly thought he would never get tired of hearing. 

Renly's own breath was coming in gasps now and he couldn't resist shifting slightly, nudging one of Loras' legs between his thighs, pushing against him slightly, desperate for some temporary relief. 

He tried to catch his breath, pressing one last kiss to Loras' mouth before he moving to sit in between Loras' legs, leaning over him and trailing kisses down his stomach, tracing the taught muscles with his tongue. 

He reached the crease of Loras thigh, and tried to remember exactly what that Dornish boy had done to him. It hadn't seemed all that difficult. Slowly, he eased down Loras' small-clothes. “Let me know when you're close” He murmured breathlessly, leaning up to whisper against Loras' ear. Loras just nodded frantically, gasping as Renly took him into his mouth, his hips jerking up to meet him. 

Renly moved a hand to Loras' hips, doing his best to pin him down as he tried to imitate with his mouth the firm strokes that his hands had just ceased doing . The movements were less smooth than Renly had been aiming for, but from the way Loras was moving underneath him, the sensation must have been a pleasant one. 

He felt Loras' fingers clench in his hair. “I'm close.” his squire panted breathlessly. 

Renly pulled back, resuming his motions with his hand. It only took a few more strokes before Loras was shuddering underneath him, his head thrown back against the pillows as he cried out.

Renly smiled, ignoring the throbbing ache in his own cock as he moved back up the bed to Loras' side. Loras clutched him to him, his body pliable and soft against Renly's own. Renly stroked his hair, pressing a kiss to his tangled curls.

Loras yawned, his eyes shutting as he buried his head in Renly's shoulder. “Teach me how to do that?” He murmured sleepily. “It's only fair that I repay the favour.”

Renly laughed. There wasn't all that much to it if he were to tell the truth although that dornish boy had most definitely made it look easier than it was. He ran a hand through Loras' hair, enjoying the soft sigh Loras let out. 

“Later.” He told Loras gently. For the moment he was completely happy to lie there while Loras fell asleep against him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that we're back to normal chapter lengths again- instead of the much longer length of the last two chapters. And please feel free to point out any mistakes I've made- I'm sure they're must be loads as this was written very late at night and my writing tends to get a little shoddy then!


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the week long wait for this chapter. I got a bit swept up with essays this week. Hopefully it wont happen again! :)

Renly supposed he must have dozed off too for he awoke with the sun warm on his face and Loras half curled up against him, his arms still wrapped loosely around Renly's neck.

Renly smiled and sat up, doing his best not to disturb Loras as he disentangled himself. He didn't think he could bring himself to wake Loras just yet, not lying beside him as he was, stretched out in all his glory and his curls gleaming in the sunlight. Renly was quite sure now that Loras was the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on. 

Sitting back on his heels, Renly tried to soak in the image, determined that he should never forget it. The shadows from the shutters formed dappled patterns on Loras' bare skin, dancing slightly as the shutters fluttered in the breeze outside. Renly wanted to reach out and touch him, knowing how lovely his skin would feel, silky under his fingertips and warm from the afternoon sun. 

He smiled from the ridiculousness of it all. He'd spent so long desiring this beautiful creature stretched out beside him and yet and only hours earlier Loras had permitted him to touch as he pleased

He reached out and laid a hand against that silky skin, golden almost in the sunlight. Tentatively, he ran his hands over him, tracing the curve of Loras' spine, the shallow dip of his waist, the long lithe limbs stretched out on the bed, the delicate hollows behind his ankles. He was quite sure that he would never get used to being able to do this. 

After a time Loras stirred slightly and Renly withdrew his hands rather hurriedly, placing them innocently in his lap. Somehow it felt rather illicit to touch him so freely when Loras had not been awake to give him explicit permission. 

“It's alright” Loras said sleepily as if he could read Renly's thoughts. “You can touch if you like.” He rolled over onto his back and reached out for Renly's hand, pulling it to rest on his stomach.

Renly smiled, tracing small circles against Loras' skin with the pad of his thumb. “Do you enjoy me touching?”

“Mm-hmm” Loras hummed lightly, his eyes closed and arching slightly under Renly's touch. He reminded Renly somehow of a cat that wanted to be stroked, and he half expected Loras to purr as his fingers came to rest just under the hollow at the base of his neck, tracing the line of his collarbone with his thumb. 

Loras sighed as Renly looped his fingers around his wrists. His pulse was slow now, beating steadily under Renly's palm, a far cry from how it had raced under his fingers only a few hours earlier. He leant down to press a kiss there.

A smile crept onto Loras' face then and he stretched out, yawning slightly, his lithe limbs growing taught under Renly's hands. 

Renly gazed at him. He looked somehow vulnerable stretched out like that, completely bare under Renly's hands and with no covers or clothes to hide behind. And yet Loras seemed to feel none of the vulnerability Renly ascribed to him. He lay calmly under Renly's hands, making no effort to cover his modesty and sighing ever so slightly as Renly's fingers continued their exploration of his skin.

Renly thought it perhaps the sweetest sound he had ever heard. 

Yawning once more, Loras took Renly's hands in his own and sat up, the rough skin of his palms worlds away from the silky skin Renly's hands had just left, parts of Loras which had never felt the friction of a sword's grip. “Have I been asleep long” He asked, reaching now for his small-clothes strewn across the bed and pulling the thin fabric over his head. 

“Not long.” Renly assured him, shivering slightly as Loras took his hands back in his own and kissed the tips of fingers lightly. 

Loras laughed as if he too felt the shivers running up Renly's spine and grinned up at him, pushing his hair out of his eyes.

Renly returned his laugh, suddenly reminded of a promise Loras had made to him a couple of days previous. He reached up to tuck one of Loras' curls behind his ear. “Remember you promised me to show me what your hair looks like tied up?”

Loras grimaced. “I did didn't I?” He sighed dramatically and flopped back down onto the bed, running a hand through his curls despairingly.”You're going to take one look and walk out of here and refuse to ever come back.”

Renly laughed. “You could shave it all off and I wouldn't do that.” 

Loras shrugged, laughing. “Alright then, a promise is a promise I guess.” He hopped off the bed, rooting around in a drawer until he found what he was looking for, a long piece of green ribbon. 

“I'm sure it wont look as terrible as you seem to think it does.” Renly said. “I tie mine up sometimes when it gets long. I like to think it looks quite regal.”

“Your hair's not curly though.” Loras laughed, pulling his hair back off his face. It took him a few moments, his hair not seeming to be cooperating as much as Loras would have liked.

When he was done Renly sat back to have a good look. Indeed Loras' hair didn't seem to like being constrained by the ribbon and strands were already escaping, curling wildly at the nape of his neck. The curls that remained in the ribbon meanwhile were sticking up all over the place at odd angles, refusing to lie flat. The overall effect was quite comical and Renly found himself rather glad that he hadn't promised not to laugh back at the inn. 

“It's very.. um bouncy isn't it your hair?” Renly said, reaching up to tug one of the curls and chuckling slightly. 

Loras rolled his eyes and undid the ribbon, his curls falling back around his face elegantly. “Well that's one way of putting it I suppose.” 

Renly laughed and pulled him to him as firmly as he dared, kissing the top of his head. “We should probably get dressed” he said with laughter. “I haven't made an appearance since yesterday afternoon.”

“You should probably go back to your chambers and change your clothes first.” Loras suggested. “People might get suspicious.” He glanced over at the clothes strewn across the bed and then back to Renly with amusement.“It probably says rather too much about how selfish I am that I managed to lose all of my clothes whilst you seem still to be clad in the majority of yours.” He paused, glancing at the small-clothes Renly was still wearing. “Or at least the ones that count anyway.”

Renly grinned. He couldn't imagine how Loras could possibly think that taking all of his clothes off could ever be seen as selfish. It was true though what he said about Renly's clothing. It would not do at all to descend in the same clothes he'd been wearing the night before. “You're right.” He said absent-mindedly, as much to himself as to Loras. “I should probably bathe and get changed before I make an appearance.”

Loras hopped up and pulled the rest of his clothes on. “I'll go and fetch some water for you.”

Renly made to pull him back. “You don't have to do that.” he said hurriedly, grasping the end of Loras' sleeve. Loras might still have been his squire, but somehow it felt wrong for him to act as such now. It made Renly feel more uncomfortable than he already did about quite how much he could be viewed as taking advantage of his young squire. 

Loras smiled though and tugged his sleeve out of Renly's hands. “It's fine Renly.” He insisted, disappearing through the door. 

Renly sighed and leant back against the headboard. He knew better than to argue with Loras once he'd said he was going to do something. And it was a rare occasion indeed when Loras offered to be helpful. Renly supposed he ought to be grateful.

It took Loras a few trips to bring enough water, but it wasn't long at all before Loras had filled the large free-standing tub that he'd dragged to the centre of the room.

Renly smiled and stripped off his small-clothes to step into it, sinking down into the water with a sigh. It was warm against his skin and Loras must have poured something vaguely perfumed into it. He couldn't quite lay his finger on what scent it was, but it was pleasant and familiar, reminding him strongly of Loras. He supposed Loras must put whatever it was in his own baths. 

Loras came to sit beside him, kneeling on the floor and leaning over the side slightly, swirling his fingers through the water absent-mindedly. 

Renly grinned, an idea occurring to him. He glanced down at the tub. It was easily big enough for two he reckoned. “Want to join?” He asked, shifting to make room for him without waiting for an answer.

Loras laughed. “Would you like me to?” 

Renly tugged on the younger boy's sleeve impatiently. “Yes.”

Loras laughed again and stood up, stepping in to join him once he had taken off his clothes. Renly pulled him towards him so he was sitting in between his legs, leaning back against him, his skin smooth against Renly's chest. Renly leant down to kiss his shoulders, wrapping his arms around Loras and holding him to him. 

Loras laughed. “Are you planning on keeping me here?” He leant his head back against Renly's shoulder, his curls tickling Renly's neck. 

Renly nodded, tightening his grasp around Loras' waist as an answer. 

Loras grinned. “You'll have to let me go at some point Renly.” He tugged a hand despairingly through his curls. “I need to wash it. This steam is making it frizzier by the second” He tilted his head back further to glance up at Renly, clearly amused. “And besides, if you wanted me to sit here all you had to do was ask.” 

Renly laughed, releasing his grip on Loras. He had fond memories of quite how ridiculous Loras' hair looked when it got damp, but he imagined Loras wouldn't share his amusement. The notion that Loras might allow himself to be seen in public with his hair looking anything less than perfect was laughable. 

Loras wasted no time in dunking his head under the water and reaching for the soaps. He looked quite different with wet hair Renly thought. His own hair didn't change colour in the slightest when wet but Loras' did rather a lot, becoming much darker. His hair looked particularly long now, pulled down by the weight of the water. He was surprised to see however that despite the weight of the water, Loras' hair was still not completely straight. It was no longer in the tight corkscrews Loras' hair usually formed, but was still in very loose curls that fell down onto his shoulders. 

“You know Loras.” Renly said, playing with one. “I don't think I ever realised just quite how curly your hair is.”

Loras laughed. “You're slightly obsessed with my hair aren't you?” He twisted a strand round his own finger. “You know if I had a gold piece for every time you touch it or look at it dreamily I'd probably be as rich as Tywin Lannister by now.”

Renly blushed slightly. “Well your hair is nice.” He said defensively, dropping the curl he'd been playing with. Loras words rang true though; he found something inexplicably captivating about Loras' hair. 

Loras glanced at him then almost guiltily. “I'm cutting it tomorrow.” He confided, fiddling with a curl absent-mindedly. “It's just got too long. I can't see anything.”

Renly couldn't keep the woeful expression of his face, but he didn't argue. He could see why Loras' hair was no longer practical and he imagined that trying to fight off an opponent with your hair continually falling into your face would be beyond irritating. “Don't get rid of too much?” He asked instead, painfully conscious of the hopeful not in his voice.

Loras laughed. “I was thinking about shaving it all off actually. I always have admired that bald look Penrose has going on.”

Renly snorted. “As if. You're probably the vainest person I know.” 

Loras smirked and leant back against Renly's chest, rubbing soap in his curls. “You obviously don't know yourself very well then.” he quipped back.

Renly opened his mouth to argue but stopped mid-protest, thinking better of it. Unfortunately he had to admit that Loras most likely had a point. He liked to think that he wasn't any more vain than Loras was, but it was probably fair to suggest that he was equally so. 

He grinned. “There's worse crimes.” He said. “And besides, it's not our fault that the Gods blessed us with such dashing good looks!”

Loras laughed which Renly took to mean he agreed. Pressing a kiss into Loras' damp curls, he reached for the soap himself and started scrubbing his own hair. 

............................................................................................................................................................................................................

It was early evening by the time they had dressed and found something to eat, and they headed outside to make the most of the evening sunshine.

Renly smiled as they leisurely made their way along the path that wound through the castle grounds. It was a lovely evening, the sun still hot against their skin and a light wind coming in off the bay, making the leaves of the trees dance in the breeze. 

They'd got a little way from the castle when Loras decided he'd done enough walking and lay down in the shade of the old chestnut tree.

Renly flopped down next to him, gazing up into the old tree's branches. He and Loras had climbed it once, sitting up in its boughs for the greater part of an afternoon after Loras had returned from a visit to Highgarden. Renly had been too old for such things at the time, and now they probably both were. He smiled as he imagined just quite how bemused the Stormlords he'd spent the past half a year visiting would have been if they'd been witness to their liege lord engaged in such a childish activity. Even now, sat idly on the grass in his silken clothes with his squire stretched out next to him, he imagined that he would make a rather strange sight for onlookers.

He told Loras as much and Loras laughed, agreeing that some of the things Renly did privately might surprise the lords of the Stormlands. Shielding his eyes from the afternoon sun, he rolled over to lie beside Renly. “Did you miss me on your trip?” He asked mildly. His tone was light and he asked as if it was merely a question of casual curiosity, but there was an intensity in his eyes that Renly thought anyone aside from himself may have missed.

Renly was quite bemused that Loras even felt the need to ask the question. He thought he'd made himself quite clear that he'd missed Loras while he'd been away. He gazed at Loras a while before answering. Stretched out on the grass now as he had been on his own bed earlier, Renly was still quite he'd never meet anyone whose beauty would compare to Loras'. But it hadn't been Loras' beauty that he'd missed the most Renly thought. It had been his squire's dry comments, the sarcastic remarks he ought to have kept to himself, the way Loras would never hesitate to put him in his place and the times Loras would laugh with him, or perhaps even at him, when no-one else dared to. He'd missed the tiny habits Loras had, the way he'd bite down on his lower lip when deep in thought, and the one curl that he'd constantly be tucking behind his ear because it wouldn't stay put. 

He smiled and nodded. “I missed you more than you'll ever know.” he told him, tangling his fingers with Loras' despite being out of the privacy of Loras' room now. 

Loras returned his smile warmly and for perhaps the thousandth time in the past day Renly thought he might melt from sheer joy. “Did you miss me?” He asked with equal coyness. He knew full well that Loras had, he had done since Loras turned up at that inn to meet him, and yet he couldn't quite resist hearing it from Loras' own mouth. 

“Of course I did.” Loras said, squeezing Renly's hand slightly and meeting his eyes. “Promise me you'll never leave me like that again?”

Renly bit back a sigh, sharply reminded of just quite how young Loras was, more naïve in truth than Loras would ever let on. “I can't promise that Loras.” He told him.“They'll be times when I'll be needed here while your family will want you in Highgarden. It'll impossible to be together all of the time.”

Loras frowned. “Well promise me you'll always come back then?” 

Renly smiled. That he could promise.


	32. Chapter 32

Renly thought he might cry as pieces of Loras' hair fell to the floor. He supposed that the barber wasn't taking that much off, probably only a few inches if Renly forced himself to be entirely honest about it but all the same he found that he couldn't watch as yet another lock of hair fell to the floor. 

He turned away and bit back a sigh. It was hardly becoming, he thought, that the lord of Storm's End should fret so over the length of his squire's hair. 

Leaving them to it, he exited the room, wandering aimlessly around the corridors for a time until he supposed that he really ought to find something useful to do. He had very much ignored every single one of his Lordship duties since his return from his tour around the Stormlands, a fact he liked very much to blame on Loras, and he dreaded to think how many letters he'd have received that would need answering. 

Indeed, as he'd expected it took him the greater part of the day to respond to the various ravens he had been sent during his absence. It was boring, dull work, not helped at all by the fact that the castle seemed to have turned into a furnace overnight. The sun beat down outside as if the never-ending summer was already upon them and even the most dedicated of knights had foregone arms practice that morning and had instead sat in the shade of the castle walls, willing a breeze to pick up. The serving girls meanwhile had resorted to wearing nothing but flimsy swatches of fabric that did little to cover their modesty. Renly had raised an eyebrow when he'd seen them, but hadn't had had the heart to tell them to dress properly; he too was cursing the heat as much as them. Every window in his study had been flung wide open and yet even in his cool silks the heat was unbearable. Had it been an option, he would have been sorely tempted to respond to his letters in the nude.

It was perhaps fortunate he refrained, for Penrose entered after a few hours to help him, diligently writing replies to those requests that were less pressing and didn't require a response from Renly himself. 

They worked in a comfortable silence for a time, eventually broken by Penrose who glanced up to smile at Renly. “You haven't been around much these past few days my lord.” he commented as he sealed a letter to one of the knightly houses on Cape Wrath. 

Renly laughed, smiling to hide his discomfort. He'd suspected that his absence around the castle would have been noted over the past few days, but even so the question made him shift rather uncomfortably. “I've been rather tired” he said eventually, not meeting Penrose's eye and cursing himself inwardly for quite how poor his excuse was. 

Penrose didn't comment further however and so Renly relaxed, making casual conversation with the older man for the rest of the evening. 

It was dusk before the last letter was finished, and Renly thanked Penrose gratefully before heading as discretely as he could back to Loras' chambers. 

He knocked softly and entered, smiling when he saw Loras lying on his bed, reading a letter by the dimming light of the setting sun. His hair looked decidedly shorter Renly thought wistfully, his curls falling now just past the tops of his ears. 

Renly smiled. His squire looked as comely as ever, even with the shorter hair, and yet Renly couldn't help but feel Loras looked bare somehow without his curls tumbling around his face. 

His expression must have betrayed his thoughts for Loras laughed and raised an eyebrow. “I'm sorry you hate it so much.”

“I don't hate it.” Renly insisted, the words true enough for him not to feel guilty. “I'm just used to seeing you with longer hair is all.”

“It'll grow.” Loras said, grinning and turning back to his letter as he patted the bed beside him. 

“Anything interesting from Highgarden?” Renly asked, flopping down next to him and fanning himself with a piece of parchment lying on the bed, presumably the first half of Loras' letter. 

Loras smiled as he always when he was thinking about his family. “Nothing out of the ordinary.” He said, sighing fondly. “My grandmother insulted my father at dinner again the other day, apparently he's lent yet more money to the crown which my grandmother thinks is unwise, Willas' mare has birthed very nice filly that I'm going to try and persuade Willas to let me have, Garlan and Leonette are trying to set a date for the wedding.”

Renly cocked his head as Loras continued his seemingly endless list of how his siblings were passing their days. He'd known that the crown was struggling for finances, Stannis had implied as much in his rare letters, but he hadn't been aware that Robert had resorted to loans. Especially from the Tyrells from all people. He bit back a sigh, feeling more distant from his siblings than he had done for a long time. “I didn't know that.” he said slowly. 

“Know what?” Loras had already turned his attention back to his reading. 

“That the crown was borrowing money from the reach.”

“You didn't?” Loras glanced back up. “How do you suppose then that I got to be your squire?” He laughed. “I believe squiring for the king's brother was supposed to be an honour that would make my father more agreeable to such financial agreements.” He grinned. “Knowing how well flattery works on my father, it probably worked.”

Renly thought about that. He'd been told at the time that Loras was being sent to squire for him in an attempt to heal the rift between the Stormlands and the Reach, to rebuild the bridges burned during the siege of Storm's End. 

He sighed. He probably should have guessed that there were financial motivations in such a venture. “Is it a lot of money Robert has borrowed from your father?” He asked. 

Loras shrugged. “In the grand scheme of things? Probably not. From the impression I get from the very little that my father and Willas let slip, it's pittance compared to what it's rumoured has been borrowed from the Lannisters.” He thought for a moment. “If I took a rough guess I'd say it was a million maybe, perhaps a little less.”

Renly stared at him. He refused to believe that his brother was one million gold in debt to Mace Tyrell. And if what Loras said was correct about the debt to the reach being a paltry amount in comparison to others taken out by the crown, he dreaded to think how much Robert had borrowed from Tywin Lannister. He felt rather insulted now that neither Stannis nor Robert had thought to inform him of such a dire state of affairs. He couldn't say he was surprised though; he suspected that even the occasional letters he received from his two brothers were sent only out of an obligation to show at least some interest in him. 

He sighed and glanced back to the letter in Loras' hands, from Loras' own much more beloved siblings no doubt.“Is it from Margaery?” He asked. They usually were it seemed. 

“No, Willas.” He smiled. “Margaery's last letter came the day before you got back.”

Renly laughed. It was a mystery to him how the Tyrell siblings managed to write so often to each other. Margaery had written weekly ever since Loras had come to Storm's End, while Willas and Garlan wrote monthly. Admittedly, letters from lord and lady Tyrell came less often, but Renly suspected that this would not be the case if Loras' siblings actually left their parents anything to tell their youngest son. 

“Whose letters do you like best?” Renly asked, moving to lean against Loras' pillows.

Loras thought about it for a moment, biting down on his lower lip as he did so. “It depends.” he said eventually. “Everyone's letters are different. Garlan's make me laugh the most, and Willas is the best at actually telling me what's been going on at home. Whereas Margaery is useless at that.” He laughed. “Her letters are probably the most interesting but often she'll say very little about what she's been up to from one day to the next.”

Renly regarded him curiously. “Well what sort of things do you find to talk about with Margaery then? You send her an awful lot of letters.” It was true, and often the letters Loras' sister sent would be lengthy, reels and reels of parchment that took Loras a whole afternoon to read. 

Loras just shrugged cryptically, getting up to light the candles as the sun finally disappeared over the horizon. 

Renly frowned, feeling a slight stab of jealousy towards the girl Loras so evidently adored that he had never met. Loras seemed to tell Margaery everything, and he bit back a sigh, vaguely anxious about quite the sort of things Loras would be capable of telling her now. “Have you replied to Margaery's last letter yet?” he asked, trying to hide his restlessness. 

“Not yet.” Loras replied simply, returning to his spot next to Renly and sitting cross-legged.

That made Renly feel slightly more at ease. “And what will you tell her when you do?” He pressed, fidgeting anxiously with one of the tassels on Loras' pillow. 

Loras frowned. “Is it of any matter what I tell her in my next letter?”

Renly shifted uncomfortably. If truth be told he'd rather Loras didn't mention certain aspects of the past week in his correspondence with Highgarden. He knew nothing of Margaery except what Loras had told him, and he had no idea whether she was the sort of girl, as Renly had been led to believe many young girls were, who kept no secrets from their mothers. He imagined that much of what Margaery could potentially tell her parents would very much not be to their liking. At the same time, he knew better than to try and interfere too much in Loras' dealings with his precious sister. “Um well I'd rather you were... well discrete I guess about certain things.” He said eventually, not quite meeting Loras' gaze.

Loras looked up at him with wariness in his eyes. “Are you ashamed Renly of how things have changed between us?”

Renly bit back a sigh. He wasn't ashamed, not truly. But still he'd rather that the sort of things that had passed recently between him and his squire were kept under the rug, most of all where lord and lady Tyrell were concerned. “I'm not ashamed Loras.” He told him, reaching out to tug Loras closer. “I just think it's.. well best that what we do together is not spread around. For both of our sakes.”

Loras considered that for a moment and seemed to think it fair. “I'll tell her not a word then if you ask me to.” 

Renly smiled. He was probably more flattered than he ought to be that Loras was willing to do such a thing with his precious Margaery. He was surprised too, he'd expected Loras to refuse to do anything of the sort. “You'd truly do that?” He asked incredulously. “Lie to your sister I mean?” 

Loras shrugged. “I didn't say anything about lying. I'll just refrain from mentioning certain things.”

Renly took his hand. “Thank you Loras.” 

Loras smiled and pulled him to him. “You don't need to thank me Renly.” He wrapped his arms around his waist and leaned up to press a kiss to his neck. “In fact Renly, as I remember it, it's me who should be owing you favours, not the other way around.” 

Renly laughed and closed his eyes, the kisses that Loras was tracing down his jawline were soft and warm and very very inviting. It was all too easy to let Loras wrap his legs around his waist and push him back against the pillows, his kisses still warm against his neck. 

He felt his breeches grow tighter as Loras adjusted himself atop him, moving to sit astride Renly's hips. He heard the younger boy laugh slightly as he no doubt felt how hard Renly already was beneath him, and he couldn't help but let out a soft moan as Loras moved against him.

Loras' hands were already on his doublet now, unbuttoning it and throwing it aside carelessly. It fleetingly occurred to Renly to tell him not to throw such fine rich fabrics across the room but then Loras' fingers were in his hair and his mouth was warm against his own and Renly found he didn't care anymore. Not in the slightest.

His breath coming hurriedly now, Renly ran his own fingers through Loras' hair. It was as silky as ever but felt strange under his fingers, his hands finding empty air rather more quickly than he expected to. 

He could sense Loras' growing impatience now though, and he arched his back slightly so that Loras could slide his breeches down past his hips, gasping as Loras' fingers brushed ever so slightly over his cock.

He shuddered deeply as Loras took him in hand, scrunching his eyes up and enjoying the sensations rippling through his body. His head swum as Loras' grip tightened slightly, his fingers applying pressure where Renly desired it most. His squire obviously knew what he was doing here and Renly's breath hitched as he imagined Loras touching himself in this manner. The thought was almost enough to tip Renly over the edge there and then. 

As it was though, Loras moved his hands up to Renly's hips then, shifting and moving so that he was kneeling over Renly, leaning down so close that Renly could feel the warmth of his breath tickling the skin of his stomach.

“How do you do that thing you did?” He asked, kissing Renly's stomach softly. “You know, what you did yesterday, with your mouth?” 

“I'm no expert” Renly breathed, his need growing. He pushed Loras' head down slightly. “Um you sort of do what you were doing with your hand I guess, but with your mouth?” 

Loras laughed breathlessly. “Useful instructions there Renly.” He shrugged. “Trial and error it is then.” He took a deep breath and took the tip of Renly's cock into his mouth. It was the contact Renly had been craving and he tried to remember how to breathe as Loras took him further into his mouth. It was deliciously warm and soft and wet and Renly fought the urge to push himself further into the younger boy's mouth.

It was not long at all before Renly was clutching at the sheets and warning Loras breathlessly that he was close. 

He was rather surprised when Loras stayed put despite his words, but certainly didn't complain, arching his back as his seed spilled, Loras mouth still warm around him.

For a few moments it was all Renly could do just to lie there, trying to get his breath back. Loras moved to his side and leant against him, panting too and looking very pleased with himself. 

Renly grinned and sat up, pulling Loras closer to him and tangling his fingers as much as he could in Loras' shorter hair. “What does it taste like?” He asked curiously. 

Loras laughed. “Why don't you kiss me and find out?” 

Renly smiled and leant back against the headboard, guiding Loras into his lap and pulling him in for another kiss. The taste was rather bitter but not altogether unpleasant, and Renly deepened the kiss, Loras moaning slightly against his mouth as he did so and reminding Renly of the younger boy's own need. 

He reached down and wrapped his hand around Loras' cock. Loras sighed softly and closed his eyes, his expression making Renly smile. 

It didn't take long for Loras to finish and when he had done, he wrapped his arms around Renly's neck and leant heavily against him, his head tucked under Renly's chin. Renly kissed his curls and held him tight, pressing their bodies despite the intense heat of the room. 

He glanced down, smiling into Loras' curls. “Time to turn in for the night?” He asked.

Loras nodded, already half asleep against him and Renly grinned, shifting Loras' weight slightly so that they could both lie down and drawing the sheet up over them. He wrapped his arms around Loras tightly, not caring for the moment that they were hot and sticky against each other.


	33. Chapter 33

Renly slept badly that night, drifting in and out of a restless sleep and tossing and turning relentlessly. The room was stifling and the sheets stuck to him uncomfortably, clinging to his skin.

Eventually he gave up on sleep entirely and sat up, throwing off the sheet. 

He reached out across the bed for Loras, but his hands found only empty air. 

“Loras?” he whispered into the darkness. 

“Mm hmm” Loras replied, and Renly peered around the room, his eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness. He could make out Loras by the dim light of the moonlight, sitting on the stone ledge by the window, half hanging out of it. 

Renly leaned over and fumbled around on the bedside table until he managed to light a candle. He could see Loras clearly now. He'd turned round to face him, his hair all ruffled from sleep. 

“It's not even light Renly.” he said softly. “You should try and go back to sleep.”

Renly groaned. “It's too hot to sleep.”

“Tell me about it” Loras laughed. “I thought you lived in the Stormlands Renly, not bloody Dorne.” He got up and crossed the room, coming to sit beside Renly on the bed and wrapping his arms around his neck.

They lay intertwined for a few moments, both ignoring the intense heat until Loras eventually pulled away reluctantly. “Can we get out of here Renly? It has to be cooler outside.”

Renly laughed. “It's the middle of the night Loras.”

“So?” Loras raised an eyebrow.”You're the lord of Storm's End. Who's to tell you what you can and can't do?” 

Renly rolled his eyes and pulled himself out of bed. “Come on then.” he laughed. “I'll be damned if there's not a breeze down on Shipbreaker Bay.” He rooted around in one of his drawers and eventually found the old rusty key he was looking for. “I'll take us out the back doors. There shouldn't be anyone there at this hour.”

Loras grinned and began pulling his clothes on. Renly laughed and joined him. 

The corridors were deserted as they made their way out of Loras' chambers, wincing as the door creaked rather more than they would have liked. The hallways were shadowed and dark and yet Renly found he could navigate them without need of a candle, Loras holding onto his wrist as he led them down to the back doors. 

As Renly had expected there were no guards here. There had long ceased to be any need for such high security and the back doors had not been used in near a decade, the only key to them being the one which was currently in Renly's hands. 

The doors were stiff and it took both Renly and Loras to make the key turn in the lock. 

The air was still outside, and Renly thought he could feel the very weight of the air pressing down on him, suffocating and stifling, damp somehow despite the heat.

He hadn't given much thought to where they would go but he found his feet leading him down a familiar path that led down towards the shore. It was a rocky descent down to the beach from here, and a dangerous one at that, especially in the dark, but Renly had done this walk many times before and he found he could pick his way down relatively easily even with only the moonlight to guide his steps. 

It had been many years since he had come down to the shore like this and he smiled as he descended, thinking with some nostalgia of the many afternoons he had spent here. He grinned as he recalled the last particular day he had come down here, remembering well the petulant ten year old that he'd inadvertently kept waiting all evening by being out of the castle that day. 

That boy was nearing fourteen now and Renly smiled as he glanced back at Loras, picking his way elegantly down the path behind him, the moonlight gleaming off his curls. He'd changed a lot since then Renly thought. When he'd first seen him he'd almost mistaken him for a maiden, and whilst he was still undoubtedly pretty, he had a man's body now, all hard lines and taught muscles. He hadn't changed much in essentials though Renly thought with amusement, they had all but failed entirely at training the insolence out of him, and if anything he had only grown more impetuous with age. Renly smiled. He wouldn't have it any other way. 

It was indeed cooler down on the beach, but not by much Renly thought. There was less breeze than he'd been hoping for and the heat still hung heavy in the air, hot and humid. Only the water wasn't still. The waves were as fierce as usual, crashing up against the rocks and sending spray into their faces. 

They sat down together on a rock near the waters edge and sat in a comfortable silence for a while, the water lapping at their boots. 

Leaning down, Renly felt around for some stones to skip, smiling when he found a few decently shaped ones, smooth and flat that fit comfortably in his palm. He absent-mindedly threw them out over the water, watching them skip across the surface, the water rippling in the moonlight long after the stones had sunk. 

“How do you get them to do that?” Loras asked. 

“There's a knack to it.” he laughed. “Have you never seen it done before?”

Loras shook his head. “The sea is a long way from Highgarden.”

Renly smiled. “Robert taught me when I was very young, on one of his rare visits back from the Eyrie. He's better at it than I am.” He picked up another couple of stones. “Here I'll show you.” He skimmed it and it skipped four times over the water. He handed Loras one of his pebbles. “You've got to choose the nice flat ones.”

Loras tossed it, frowning when it sunk after one skip. 

Renly laughed. “No you've got to throw it more flat. Like this.” He demonstrated, smiling as the stone bounced five times before disappearing under the waves.

Loras tried again, correcting his throw as Renly had told him. It skipped six times.

“Beginner's luck” Renly insisted, laughing. “I'll bet you can't do it again.”

Loras raised an eyebrow and tried again. 

The stone skipped seven times.

Renly sighed. “Why are you always so good at everything Loras?”

Loras grinned. “I guess I'm just naturally wonderful?” 

Renly laughed and leant down to kiss him. “Definitely.”

Loras smiled against his mouth and wrapped an arm around Renly's waist, leaning against him even after Renly had broken the kiss.

“Why is it so hot.” he grumbled. “It's not even dawn yet and it's baking.”

Renly laughed and kicked his boots off, stretching his legs out and dipping his feet in the water. It was pleasantly cool and inviting. He'd often swum in the bay as a child, and he was sorely tempted to do so now, if only to try and cool down. 

He glanced up to the sky. Like Loras said, dawn was still some way off. He could do what he liked and nobody aside from Loras would ever see. 

He grinned and stripped off down to his small-clothes, folding the rest of his clothes neatly on the rock next to Loras. He gestured out to the water. “Care to join?” He asked Loras.

Loras didn't look too excited about the prospect but obliged, stripping down also to his small-clothes and stepping too into the water to join Renly.

Renly smiled and turned away from him, wading into the water until he was submerged up to his shoulders. He'd forgotten how much he enjoyed the water. The pebbles that made up the seabed were smooth under his feet and the water was cool against his skin, a welcome relief from the stuffiness of the air.

He plunged in the rest of the way, dunking his head under and swimming a little way. He didn't go far, conscious of not straying too far from the shore. The currents could be strong in the bay, and the even one as comfortable in the water as Renly could find himself in trouble if he wasn't careful. 

Loras still hadn't joined him though and he glanced back to shore, surprised to see Loras still standing where he'd left him, dithering at the edge of the water

“What's wrong?” Renly called, swimming back towards him and laughing. “Scared to get your hair wet?”

To his surprise Loras didn't laugh back, and continued standing there rather awkwardly. 

Worried by Loras' lack of response, Renly moved back to him and put his hands on Loras' shoulders.“What is it?” he asked gently, wondering if he'd offended Loras somehow. God knows it was easy enough to. 

“It's nothing.” Loras frowned, looking down at the water and not meeting Renly's eye. 

Renly sighed.”Something's clearly bothering you Loras, It is something I said?” 

“No really its not.” Loras looked earnestly at Renly “its only...” 

“Go on”

“Its only... I can't swim.”

Renly merely gaped at him. It had never occurred to him that someone might not be able to swim. He'd grown up with the sea out of his bedroom window and he couldn't even remember being taught. Hells, even Stannis had been prone to taking a private dip on the very rare occasion when it didn't conflict with his duty.

He couldn't quite keep the disbelief off his face. “You're telling me that the boy who can joust and and wield a morning star like he was born holding one can't swim??” 

Loras shrugged. 

Renly laughed. “I'll teach you then, it might be my only chance to ever look more elegant than you.” 

Loras smiled at that and consented to let Renly lead him into the water, going as far in as they could before Loras wouldn't be able to stand.

“It's times like these Loras when I realise just quite how short you -” Renly was cut short with a well aimed splash. “Alright alright, a touchy subject I see!” 

“Being shorter than you does not make me short.” Loras retorted, scowling. “Most of the realm is shorter than you.” 

Renly laughed. “That's true enough. There's very few people I've met who are taller than me.” He pressed a kiss into Loras' curls. “I could probably count them all on one hand to be honest.” He went through the list in his head, counting off Robert, both the Clegane brothers, Yohn Royce and laughing when he remembered his most recent acquaintance who had been surprisingly tall. “You know Loras, I met a maid on my tour of the Stormlands who could look me in the eyes she was so tall.”

Loras scowled as if the thought of a maid being taller than him offended him. “She sounds lovely.” he said dryly.

Renly laughed and dropped the subject, pulling Loras to him and kissing his damp curls. “Ideally we'd have calmer water conditions to teach you how to swim.” He said, sighing dramatically and running a hand through his wet hair. “But alas, this is Storm's End, what can you expect.” He placed his hands on Loras' hips to steady him in the rather choppy water. 

He paused, trying to think of the best way to explain how to swim. It seemed so natural to him and he couldn't quite think of how it was actually done. It was something he couldn't remember not being able to do and he found he was quite at a loss to explain it. 

“Hmm. I'll do my best to explain the basics to you Loras.” He said, smiling. “But it's one of those things which is quite difficult to explain.” He sighed. “You sort of lie flat in the water, and well... kick out behind you. That moves you through the water you see.” 

He rambled on for a while, trying to explain the basics as best as he could. He glanced up when he thought he'd covered everything. “You understand Loras?” 

Loras glanced up at him, seemingly lost in thought.

“I asked you if you understood my explanation?” Renly nudged him. 

“You didn't actually expect me to pay any attention to a word you were saying when you've got your hands there did you?”

Renly laughed despairingly. “Alright then Loras, if you're not interested in learning how to swim from me, what do you want?”

“This” Loras pulled Renly to him.


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to admit that I was sorely tempted when writing this chapter to copy and paste Wildknees' "Shines Gold" it's so good- but sadly I thought there was a decent chance WildKnees might notice and so here you have my infinitely inferior version! I apologise Wildknees if there are similarities between the two- it seems you have influenced my head canon rather too much!

“Where are we going?” Loras asked him for about the tenth time that morning, tugging on his mare's bridle to catch up with him. They'd left the path quite some time ago, and were now leading their horses through the undergrowth, picking their way over logs and around brambles. 

Renly just smiled. “I told you. It's just a place I sometimes go to.”

“It better not be another beach.” Loras muttered darkly. “If I have to spend one more morning getting salt out of my hair I think I might give up trying to be a knight entirely and go back to Highgarden.”

Renly laughed. Since their trip down to the beach and Loras' subsequent revelation that he didn't know how to swim, Renly had insisted that Loras learn. They'd spent the past week exploring the coastline around Storm's End, Renly trying fruitlessly to make Loras take an interest in learning. Loras however took instruction badly, and seemed to have a distaste for the water that Renly couldn't understand. He loathed to go near it, and would sit adamantly as far from the the water's edge as he could get and insist that he didn't want to go into the water and that Renly couldn't make him. Renly had managed to coax him in most days, but Loras' efforts would be half-hearted at best and he'd scowl at Renly's words, bolting out of the water as soon as Renly gave him leave to. 

“It's not another beach.” Renly told him, smiling. 

“Good.” Loras snorted, looking relieved. 

“But I'm not giving up yet.” Renly retorted, a wide grin on his face. “You wont leave here knighted before you've learnt.”

Loras scowled. “But why do I need to learn?” he almost whined. “Until your brother makes swimming a part of tourneys I see no use for it. It's cold and wet and saltly and it makes my hair all dry and horrible. ”

Renly laughed. That he couldn't argue with. The seawater seemed to do wonderful things to Loras' hair, the dried salt making it stick up in ways neither Renly or Loras had ever thought possible. “True” he conceded. “But you'll learn all the same”

“You can't make me.” Loras retorted petulantly.

“We'll see.” Renly smiled slightly. He was quite sure that he could get Loras to come round to his way of thinking eventually. Loras was stubborn but he wasn't that stubborn. 

“We bloody well won't” Loras muttered under his breath. 

Renly just laughed and let the matter drop. They were nearing the glade now, the trees beginning to thin slightly and sunlight penetrating the canopy of leaves above them. 

The clearing was even more beautiful than Renly remembered. The oak tree stood tall and proud as ever and the wild-flowers were in full bloom now, their white petals dancing in the breeze and shining almost golden in the sunlight. 

“It's lovely” Loras breathed, their talk of beaches and seawater seemingly forgotten. He bent down to pick one of the flowers, smiling in such a way that Renly wondered whether the blossoms reminded him of home. 

“This is the one place I always promised I'd never show to anyone.” Renly confided. 

Loras regarded him curiously, his eyes soft. “Then why have you brought me here?” 

Renly couldn't help but blush slightly, not meeting Loras' gaze. He wasn't quite sure either why he had decided to bring Loras to this place. It had felt like the right thing to do somehow. “Because I wanted to.” he told him eventually, moving to sit in his usual spot by the oak tree and stretching out in the sun.

Loras just smiled, tying their horses to a tall ash tree at the shady edge of the clearing before coming to join him, lying down and leaning his head in Renly lap, a very unsubtle hint for Renly to stroke his hair.

Renly indulged him, playing absent-mindedly with one of Loras' curls, short as they were. He'd learnt long ago that it was best to indulge Loras' whims, and besides, he would be lying if he claimed he didn't enjoy stroking Loras hair. 

He had imagined that it would feel odd bringing someone else here. Indeed, he had vowed as a child to show it to no-one, swearing that it would be his own secret place, entirely his and safe from prying eyes. It didn't feel at all strange however to have Loras here with him, and he glanced down at the younger boy fondly. He had never thought it possible to care about someone as much as he cared about Loras and he thought he understood his eldest brother a little better now. He had always expressed disbelief when Robert would tell him he'd fought his rebellion for love, and yet that decision didn't seem half so foolish to him now. He was quite sure that he loved Loras more than his brother had ever loved Lyanna Stark. 

“What are you thinking about?” Loras' voice brought him from his thoughts. 

Renly felt colour rising to his cheeks. “You'd laugh if I told you.”

Loras grinned, sitting up to face him, “Tell me anyway?” 

Renly looked away. Loras would pester him he knew until he told. He took a deep breath. “Well I guess I was just thinking about you.” he admitted. “and well.. how much I love you.” he finished quietly. fidgeting anxiously with a blade of grass. This was the sort of thing lovestruck maidens confessed, not fully grown lords.

He chanced a quick glance up at Loras' face. His squire was no longer grinning.

“Why would I laugh at that?” Loras asked quietly. 

Renly looked down at his hands. “Because you might think it silly? Because you might not feel the same way?”

“I wouldn't worry too much about that.” Loras expression was soft and took Renly's hands in his own, turning them over and kissing his palms. “In fact I wouldn't worry at all about that.” He leant in to kiss him, his hands moving up to rest in Renly's hair. 

Renly smiled and closed his eyes. He could have probably stayed in this moment forever. Loras' words were like music to his ears and Renly returned the kiss softly, brushing Loras' cheek with his fingertips. 

Their eyes met when they parted, Renly's a vibrant blue and Loras' turning to liquid gold in the sunlight.

“I thought I'd made it blindingly obvious quite how much I love you.” Loras told him softly. He smiled then, amusement creeping into his eyes. “I'm mildly offended though that you think loving me is silly.”

Renly laughed. “You know I didn't mean it like that.”

“Loving you on the other hand...” Loras grinned. “Now that's plain ridiculous!”

Renly rolled his eyes and shoved Loras playfully before taking Loras' hands back in his own and meeting his eyes again. “In all seriousness though Loras, do you really mean what you said just now?”

Loras nodded. “I've never cared about anyone how I care about you.” He held the gaze and Renly's stomach flipped. “And I don't think I ever will.”

There was a silence for a while where Renly and Loras just smiled at each other, before Loras grinned, lying back down on the grass and pulling Renly down beside him. 

“Have you always loved me?” Loras asked, moving closer to fiddle absent-mindedly with one of the fastenings on Renly's shirt. 

The question made Renly smile. Only Loras would ask such a self-appreciating question so directly and with no shame. He thought about it for a moment. He couldn't say he had always loved Loras quite like he did now, but he could barely remember a time when he hadn't cared deeply about the boy that had come to be his squire and yet had ended by being so much more. “Not quite always.” he said eventually. “I still remember you as that impetuous ten year old after all.” He smiled. “But for a very long time yes.” His heart swelled as Loras smiled at his words, and found he couldn't help asking Loras the same question. “What about you?”

“I don't know.” Loras breathed. “I don't remember really. Not properly anyway.” He paused, biting down on his lower lip in thought. “I guess I first realised you meant more to me than everyone else after that week where you sat with me when Willas was injured. But I don't think I understood really. Not until quite a bit later.” He laughed softly. “I probably didn't know for certain until that night when you came and told me about your secret love affair with that lovely dornish friend of yours.”

Renly laughed. “But surely you must have known even at the time that it didn't mean anything? I never felt anything for that squire of Prince Oberyn's.” 

Loras shrugged. “I didn't see it like that. Not at the time.” he sighed. “I was jealous and angry and I took it personally. I couldn't understand why you refused to see that I cared about you.”

Renly looked down at the floor, guilt creeping into his cheeks. “I never realised you felt like that.” he said softly. “Otherwise you surely know I'd never have pushed you aside like that? You hardly made it obvious how you felt.” 

“I tried, I really did Renly. I guess I just didn't know quite how to make it obvious. I tried embracing you, and touching you as intimately as I dared.” He laughed quietly. “I even tried pretending to be interested in other people to try and make you jealous.”

Renly grimaced. He remembered that rather too well. “It worked.” he muttered darkly. 

“I know it worked.” Loras sighed. “As I've said before you were so bad at hiding the fact that you desired more from me and yet you refused to see the fact that I was trying to tell you the same thing.”

“Why didn't you just tell me?” Renly asked. 

“I did eventually.” Loras said simply. “When you'd left me no other option and my patience ran out.” 

“But why not earlier?” Renly sighed. Things could have been so much easier it seemed. 

Loras was silent for a while. “You asked me something once. A while ago now, when we were talking about the Kingsguard and I said I quite fancied it. You asked me whether I wouldn't want a wife and children and I told you that I didn't.” He sighed. “You told me that would change. But I didn't want it to change, and even then I think I knew it wasn't going to even if I did.” He glanced back up at Renly. “So back to why I never told you earlier. I guess I was scared you'd think I was just some child who didn't understand what they were saying.”

Renly frowned. He couldn't deny that he may very well have dismissed Loras' feelings as merely a childhood fancy, one that would pass in time. 

“Come to think of it actually.” Loras added, grinning. “If I remember correctly that is exactly what you did in fact tell me.. What was it you said? That I was too young to know what I want?” He laughed. “It was something along those lines.”

“Well you are young.” Renly sighed. “You're thirteen Loras.”

“Almost fourteen” Loras insisted. 

“Almost fourteen” Renly agreed just to appease him, even though it was more than several moons until Loras' next name day. 

Loras smiled and laid his head back on Renly's lap. They lay together quietly for a time, the sunlight warm on their faces. Renly closed his eyes and leant back against the grass. It was peaceful in the clearing, almost completely silent save for the rustling of the leaves in the breeze and the soft sound of the stream nearby. 

The sound of the water gave him an idea and he couldn't help smirking slightly. 

“Loras?” he sat up and glanced down at his squire. 

“Mm-hmm” Loras didn't open his eyes and merely hummed to indicate that he'd heard. 

“You'd do anything for me right?” Renly couldn't help but grin. 

Loras sat up looking wary. “Yes” he said slowly as if he knew he might regret it. 

Renly glanced in the direction of the stream and Loras caught his drift immediately. 

“No” He said vehemently, shaking his head. “Don't even think about it.”

“But you just said you'd do anything?”

“Don't try that with me Renly.” He scowled. “I've told you I don't want to.”

“It's only because you're not any good at it.” The words were out of Renly's mouth before he could stop himself. 

It was the wrong thing to say it seemed from how Loras was glaring at him now. He didn't deny Renly's words but if looks could kill, Renly thought he would definitely be dead by now. 

Renly grinned sheepishly. “Prove me otherwise then and learn?” If he knew Loras as well as he thought he did, the challenge would be too much for him to turn down. 

“Fine.” Loras snapped, confirming what Renly had expected. He rolled his eyes and began stripping off his clothes irritably, muttering under his breath. 

He very reluctantly allowed himself to be led to the bank of the stream and stood hovering at the edge of the water, scowling down at it as if the water rippling innocently there had done him a personal ill. 

“Go on” Renly urged. “The water here's not even salty.”

Loras frowned and stepped into it, sighing. It must have been cold for he winced as if the water was physically hurting him and scowled. 

Renly grinned, kicking off his boots and rolling up the bottoms of his breeches. He moved to sit on the bank to watch, his feet dangling in the water. 

“Are you not coming in with me?” Loras asked, a distinct note of panic in his voice.

Renly shook his head cheerfully. “You seem to get too distracted when I join you.” He laughed. “Not that I can blame you of course. Not everyone's liege lord is quite as charming as me.”

Loras rolled his eyes and waded the rest of the way into the water, looking like there was nothing he'd rather not do. He listened with good enough grace though to Renly's instructions and only snapped slightly when Renly pointed out all the things he was doing wrong. 

He did better today Renly thought as he watched him. He was moving through the water at least, even if it was in the most ungainly manner Renly had ever seen. Loras' lack of elegance in the water had surprised him, he was so used to his squire's usual poise and grace and he had a strong urge to laugh as he watched Loras' arms and legs flail around. He didn't seem comfortable putting his head under the water and he'd strive to keep his head above the surface as if it were poison he was swimming through. It was possibly one of the most comical things Renly had ever seen. Even so, he knew he couldn't laugh. He knew from experience that Loras would not take at all well to being laughed at. He would be out of that water and storming off before Renly would even be able to apologise. 

Loras had reached the opposite bank now and had turned back around, continuing his ungainly crawl through the water. It took him so long that Renly wondered whether he was moving at all for a good while. Eventually though, he made it back to where Renly was sitting.

“Is that enough?” he growled.

He looked so pitiful clinging to the bank that Renly felt quite sorry for him. He laughed. “I guess that's enough. You've improved though.” This was stretching the truth Renly thought, but it would be necessary to stoke Loras' ego if he wanted him to persevere with it. “And it's more difficult when the water's not salty.” 

Loras didn't need telling twice. He was out of the water before Renly had even finished his sentence, wringing his hair out and going immediately to sit in the sun and dry off, his back to Renly. 

Renly rolled his eyes and went to join him. “That wasn't so hard was it?” he asked sweetly, earning him a rough shove from Loras. 

He let Renly put his arms around him though, and only muttered a few obscenities under his breath as Renly kissed his shoulder. They lay there intertwined for a while, Renly not even thinking to care that his squire was making his clothes all wet. 

“You know Renly.” Loras said after a time, the annoyance mostly gone from his voice now. “If that had been anyone else but you, I would have told them where to go.” 

“I know.” Renly breathed, leaning down to plant another kiss on Loras' wet skin.


	35. Chapter 35

The morning had been a busy one, spent tediously listening to the various complaints of the smallfolk as they droned on about stolen wagons and diseased sheep and other such prattle Renly found he cared very little for. He could only be glad that he had Penrose to keep him company. The older man would always sit beside him on such occasions, entertaining him through the tedium with his dry comments and sarcastic remarks. 

The smallfolk went away happily enough though and Renly smiled as he made his way back to his chambers. Loras would probably still be there and he was looking forward to a lazy afternoon lounging across his bed and doing very little. 

Loras was where Renly had left him, lying across Renly's bed in his small-clothes and flicking now through a book he'd evidently pulled from Renly's bookshelves. 

Renly yawned and lay down next to him, playing absent-mindedly with one of Loras' curls in lieu of a greeting. It was unlike Loras to be reading Renly thought. In almost four years of him being Renly's squire, Renly didn't think he'd ever seen Loras even pick up a book. “What you reading about?” He asked, twisting a silky strand around his finger and leaning over Loras' shoulder to peer at the book. 

“The sword of the morning.” Loras replied simply, tilting the page to show Renly the sigil of Ser Arthur Dayne, a field of purple emblazoned with a falling star. “I wanted to know how old he was when he was knighted.”

Renly laughed. “Come lets do something fun.” He tugged on Loras' sleeve. “Books are dull, they're for septons and for maesters, for dull people really.” He grinned. “Not like us.” 

“Not all books are.” Loras said, smirking. “For instance I found one just now at the back of your bookshelf that most definitely isn't for maesters.”

Renly grimaced. He thought he knew what book Loras was referring to. He'd found it himself years and years ago, buried deep in the main library of Storm's End, evidently confined to some dusty dark corner for the crime of being indecent. It was a heavy bound volume with illustrations of the sort that might turn a septon blind. He'd illicitly pored over the faded pages in his younger years, shamefully aroused by the pictures it showed, before eventually casting it guiltily to the back of his shelves, vowing never to look at such things again. He'd renewed his efforts with women after that, and he smiled wryly as he remembered how he'd tried to flirt with one of the serving girls. He'd been twelve at the time and looking back at it, Renly suspected his attempt had been laughable. 

He feigned innocence. “Is that so Loras?” he asked mildly.

“Oh yes. It was a most illuminating book.” Loras grinned. “A very very interesting read. I can't understand what it was doing pushed to the back of your shelves and hidden away like that.”

Renly sighed. “It's been there for a long time now. Since before you came.” He looked away. “I put it there to try and stop myself having indecent thoughts.”

Loras raised an eyebrow. “Well that turned out well for you.” His eyes gleamed with amusement, and he shifted so that he was sat almost in Renly's lap. His eyes flicked down to Renly's crotch. “I'd hardly dare to think how indecent your thoughts of late have been.”

Renly rolled his eyes, shaking his head in fond exasperation as he tried to stave off the very same indecent thoughts Loras was teasing him for. He refused to prove Loras' point for him by giving in to his squire's seductions now. Loras would never let him live it down and his indecent thoughts would be brought up for the rest of eternity. All the same, Renly felt his cock stir slightly and he pushed Loras gently out of his lap, searching for some distraction. 

His eyes fell on the half eaten plate of pastries at the side of the bed- the remains of his and Loras' breakfast that morning. “I was er.. thinking of having a feast soon” He told Loras animatedly, as if he'd had the idea in mind for a while. “You'd like that wouldn't you?”

Loras raised an eyebrow and blew a lock of hair out of his face. It was just about long enough now for him to do so. “If it pleases you.” He shifted as if to move back into Renly's lap, smirking slightly as if daring Renly to stop him. 

“It does please me.” Renly said, nodding vigorously and moving up the bed. “It pleases me very very much.” He added when he was out of Loras' reach. 

“Is that so?” Loras leant back over, running his hands up Renly's thighs and resting them on his hips. “Quite how much does it please you?”

Renly gulped. “A lot.” he said lamely. He had a feeling Loras was about to win this particular game of theirs, but he also had a feeling that he probably wouldn't mind all that much. At all really. Still he was determined to hold out a little longer if just to prove a point. “I love the food, the wine, the dancing.” He gave one last ditch attempt at distracting Loras. “Can you dance Loras?”

Loras snorted, his thumbs tracing small circles against Renly's hips. “Obviously I can dance.”

“Well it's just that I have never seen you dance is all.” He batted Loras' hands away and tried to keep a straight face. “If you can dance so well why didn't you dance at the tourney then?” 

Loras raised an eyebrow and sat back down on his heels, distracted it seemed for the moment. “I did.” he said dryly. “You just weren't around to see it.” 

Renly cringed. That had quite slipped his mind and now he was going to pay the price. 

Loras smirked. “You didn't really think that one through did you?” 

Renly laughed sheepishly. “I guess I did leave early at that particular feast. In retrospect though, I would much rather have seen you dance.” 

Loras raised his eyebrows again. “As lovely as my dancing is, if that is the case, whatever that dornish boy was doing he was most certainly doing it wrong.”

Renly laughed, fidgeting anxiously with one of the fastenings on his doublet. He loathed it when Loras brought up this particular topic and he cursed himself for walking rather into it this time. “He wasn't good at all.” He agreed, hoping that that would end it. His words weren't strictly true Renly thought though. If he remembered correctly, the boy had been rather skilled, and he'd done quite the most wonderful things with his tongue. He didn't imagine though that Loras would share his enthusiasm. 

“What exactly did you do with him?” Loras asked, glancing up at Renly with a wry smile, somewhere between annoyance and curiosity.

Renly sighed. “I don't know. The usual? He used his mouth.”

Loras frowned. “How generous of him.” he commented dryly. “To give so willingly and yet expect nothing in return?”

“I didn't say that.” Renly laughed nervously. “He insisted afterwards that we go up to my chambers.”

“And did you?” Loras eyed him, looking rather unimpressed. 

“Briefly.” Renly admitted. He did have a hazy memory of coming up one of the back staircases with the boy and going the rest of the way up to his chambers. It had however been a very brief encounter and if his memory wasn't failing him, the boy had left shortly after, rather disappointed. Renly remembered being quite relieved the morning after when he woke up alone. 

“Did you fuck him?” Loras' voice brought him out of his thoughts. 

Renly startled, glancing back up at Loras in surprise. “What??”

“I asked if you fucked him?”

“I heard you the first time.” Renly muttered, still rather taken aback at the question. 

“Well?” Loras pressed. 

“No.” Renly said slowly. “He wanted to, but I said no.”

“Why?” Loras asked. His face was impassive and Renly couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking. The question surprised him. Of all the things Renly had been expecting Loras to ask, it had not been that. Especially in such a direct and crude manner. 

He shrugged. “I guess I didn't want to.”

Loras bit down on his lower lip as if in thought. “Would you want to fuck me?” 

Renly winced. “Do you really have to put it like that Loras? It sounds so vulgar.”

Loras raised an eyebrow. “Fine I'll rephrase. Would you like to lie with me? Go to bed with me?” He laughed and pressed a kiss into Renly's hair. “Is that more to your taste?”

Renly rolled his eyes before considering the question. Quite honestly he wanted to do everything there was to do with Loras but glancing at the thirteen year old next to him, he was rather unsure quite how appropriate that would be. He supposed that for all intents and purposes Loras was more or less fully grown. But if you looked closely, the tell-tale signs of his youth were still there. He was still some way off his final height Renly thought and his jaw had never felt the bite of a razor. 

He glanced down at his hands and away from Loras' gaze. “It's not something I was thinking about doing any time soon.” he said eventually. 

“Well why not?” Loras demanded darkly, glaring at Renly. “Do you not want me?” He made to turn away from Renly, scowling. 

Renly sighed and grabbed his shoulder, pulling his squire gently back to him. He should have known that Loras would take such a statement personally. “Don't sulk Loras.” he implored. “That's not at all what I meant.” 

“Well what did you mean then?” Loras batted his hands away, still staring moodily down at the bed. 

Renly bit back another sigh. “It's just that you're so young Loras. It wouldn't seem right somehow.” He smiled. “Of course I want you though. What kind of sane person wouldn't?”

That placated Loras and he seemed content enough to let Renly wrap his arms around him. He even leant into Renly's touch slightly, a small smile playing at his lips. 

Renly grinned. “More importantly perhaps, would you want me to?”

Loras grinned wickedly. “What's to say that I wouldn't rather fuck you myself?” He smirked up at Renly. “Would I be too young for that too?” 

Renly laughed. He'd never given much thought at all to the matter, but thinking about it now, he thought he would have assumed that, being the older one of the two, it would have been him in the more dominant position. Knowing how stubborn and wilful his squire was on the other hand, he supposed he ought not to be surprised at Loras' words. “Do you think you would prefer it that way round Loras?”

Loras shrugged. “You know what I really don't know.” He leant his head against Renly's shoulder, deep in thought. “Probably not.” He said eventually. “Not for the first time at least.”

“Why is that?” Renly leant down to kiss his curls absent-mindedly. 

“I don't know.” He glanced up at Renly suddenly amused. “Maybe it's because I'm so very young for such things and because I need someone wise and endowed with years I could only dream of to show me how it's done.” 

Renly laughed, rolling his eyes. “In all seriousness though you'd want to?” He looked at Loras and frowned. 

“Yes.” Loras said as if his answer ought to have been obvious to Renly. He wrapped his arms around Renly's neck, leaning in to kiss his collarbone. “Why wouldn't I?”

Renly sighed, pulling Loras closer and leaning his forehead against Loras' own. He moved a hand to Loras' hair, brushing a stray curl from his face and leaning in to kiss him, It was soft for once with none of the desperation that their kisses often had.

Loras shut his eyes and leant heavily against him, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. 

Renly pulled away after a few moments. “I wouldn't really know what I was doing though.” he said, sighing. He was probably as clueless as Loras was on such acts. Aside from peeking at a few dusty books, he had very limited knowledge of such things. 

Loras laughed softly. “It can't be that difficult can it?” he grinned. “I'm sure that book of yours has plenty of useful illustrations to help you out. And besides, I'd be there to help you figure it out.”

Renly joined in his laughter. “Well I'd hope you'd be there Loras. Any attempt would be rather doomed to failure if you weren't.”

“So..?” Loras looped his fingers around Renly's wrists and glanced up him hopefully. “Do I take that as a yes?”

Renly sighed. He couldn't deny that he wanted to. Quite the contrary in fact, he wanted to more than he probably ought to. But he couldn't shake of the thought of how young Loras still was. He wasn't quite sure if his conscience could deal with it, especially if he ended up hurting him as seemed likely Renly thought. “When you're slightly older.” he said, more confidently than he felt. 

Loras raised an eyebrow, not impressed. “We shall see about that.”


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait- a longer chapter to make up for that :)

“Come on Loras” Renly implored. “It’ll be fun.” He gestured towards the open window and smiled. It was almost dark outside but even by the dim evening light it was evident that the sea was unusually calm, the water a smooth sheet of glass under the light of the setting sun. It was the perfect night for Loras to make some real progress in the water and Renly wasn’t about to pass it up.

Loras however didn’t move, remaining motionless on Renly’s bed. “You say it will be fun every time Renly.” He scowled. “It never is.”

“Please?” Renly walked over to Loras and bent down to his level. “For me?”

“Nice try Renly.” Loras said, laughing. “Every day this past week I’ve indulged you and yet still you refuse to give me what I might want. So the answer is no.”

Renly sighed. Loras was being stubborn just to prove his point it seemed. Everyday Loras would ask him the same question and every day Renly would give him the same answer, telling him he was too young. It was an odd feeling Renly had found, saying no to Loras. He was so used to giving Loras everything he wanted and yet on this particular matter he had surprised himself by remaining firm, even in spite of his own selfish desires that told him in no uncertain terms that giving Loras what he wanted would be a gloriously wonderful idea. “It’s a lovely evening Loras.” He insisted, smiling. “Perfect conditions. If you like I won’t even make you put your head under. How’s that for a compromise?”

Loras shook his head vehemently and propped himself up on one elbow, smirking slightly.

Renly took a deep breath. “Am I going to have to make this an order Loras?” He couldn’t even remember the last time he had done such a thing, but regardless of all that had passed between them, he remained Loras’ liege lord. Giving direct orders would be his last resort.

Loras glanced up at him. “Order away Renly.” His smirk grew wider as if daring Renly to try.

“Fine then.” Renly said. “Out of bed now.” He poked Loras when his squire showed no signs still of moving. “Your lord commands it Loras.”

Loras just raised an eyebrow and stayed put. “You genuinely thought that would work didn’t you?”

Renly sighed. He had hoped that that would work, but he couldn’t say he was all that surprised that it hadn’t. Loras had been rather useless at following orders even before they had begun sharing chambers every night. He supposed that he could hardly expect Loras to take his authority seriously anymore, not when there was such intimacy between them. All the same though, he decided to try one more time. “I swear it Loras, if you don’t get off that bed this instant, I will make you.”

Loras snorted. “What are you going to do? Drag me?” He laughed and threw his hands up, smirking again at Renly. “Feel free. I won’t stop you.”

Renly had to fight to keep a straight face now. The challenge was too tempting to resist.

He shrugged, grinning slightly as he wrapped his arms around Loras’ waist and hauled him up over his shoulder. He was lighter than Renly would have expected and put up less of a fuss, allowing Renly to pick him up with relative good grace.

“So what now?” Loras asked, his tone amused. “You’re going to carry me all the way out of here like this?”

Renly shrugged as best he could with Loras over his shoulder and laughed. “If I have to.”

“Carry away.” Loras laughed too. “I’ll be damned if you have the backbone to walk through the castle like this. You’ll be a laughing stock for weeks if anyone sees us.”

Renly grinned. “As if I don’t know how to avoid being seen in this castle.” He smiled. The back staircases were always deserted and he knew them like the back of his hand. He’d have thought that Loras would have realised that by now.

Loras just shrugged and deigned to let Renly carry him out of the room, even offering to carry a candle for him.

It was easy enough to carry him down to the back door. The only vaguely challenging parts were opening the doors Renly found. The door out of his chambers wasn’t so bad and he managed it with only a little awkwardness, shifting Loras slightly as he grappled with the handle. The back doors of the castle however posed more of a problem. The lock was less stiff now from his and Loras’ regular use, but even so Renly could have done with two hands to turn the rusty key. Instead, he was forced to keep one arm holding Loras in place and try with just the one, ignoring Loras’ dry remarks and jibes at how useless he was at it.

Loras was beginning to feel much heavier as he descended the path, and Renly almost dropped him several times.

It was with some relief thus that Renly deposited him less-than-gently down on a rock when they finally reached the sea shore.

“You’re stronger than I thought.” Loras said, grinning up at him. “And more naïve too if you think bringing me down here is going to make me any more inclined to get in that water.”

Renly grinned back. “Who’s to say I won’t put you in it?”

“Feel free to try” Loras laughed and his hand moved to his sword belt. “I won’t go without a fight.” He grinned up at Renly, challenge in his eyes.

Renly sighed and sunk down on the rock next to him. “Can we not negotiate this like civilised people?” Knowing Loras however, his squire would insist on the swords. He had very little head for negotiations.

To his surprise though Loras took his hand off the hilt of his sword and grinned. “Fine.” He laughed. “In fact as it happens, I have the perfect proposition for you.”

Renly rolled his eyes. He had a feeling he knew what path Loras was about to go down. “Let’s hear it then.” He said, not particularly hopeful that it would be a proposition he would be prepared to listen to.

“If you stop insisting I'm too young for certain things, then I’ll indulge you with the swimming. I’ll go willingly, I won’t kick up a fuss, hells I’ll even try. Alternatively…” He laughed and his eyes met Renly’s before he continued. “...If you agree never to ask me to get into that water again, we shall wait until you think I'm old enough and I will not complain once, even though we'll probably be grey and bearded by then.”

Renly laughed. “Tempting Loras but not good enough.”

Loras shrugged. “Your choice.” He grinned. “So where does this leave us then?”

“At an impasse it seems.” Renly laughed and held out his hand. “Come on then, fancy going for a walk instead seeing as it seems unlikely I’ll be able to coax you into that water.”

Loras smiled and took it, letting Renly pull him to his feet. It was not near so useful as teaching Loras to swim, but Renly would enjoy walking along the beach all the same.

...........................................................................................................

It was one of those glorious days Renly had managed to escape from his lordship duties early and as his reward Loras was bent over him, his mouth hot and warm around him as he took him further into his mouth.

He’d improved over the past few weeks Renly thought as his breath hitched. They both had, learning slowly what the other enjoyed and learning how to replicate it. He panted as Loras’ fingers dug into his hips. He was almost there Renly knew, teetering precariously on the edge. It would only take one more push from Loras to tip him over entirely.

His hands knotted themselves in Loras’ hair in anticipation and he closed his eyes, seeing stars.

It was then that Loras sat up, kissing Renly gently on the lips.

“Don't stop” Renly breathed, arching his back and straining for Loras' touch. His cock ached almost painfully and he reached out for Loras’ hand, thrusting it downwards to try and get some release.

“Hmmm.” Loras hummed against Renly's cheek. “I don't think I will actually.”

Renly whimpered. “What have I done now?” he asked. He hadn't tried to take Loras swimming for several days now, not since his last failed attempt. Surely this couldn't be retribution for that.

“You know what you’ve done.” Loras smirked and leant down to kiss him again, his lips brushing Renly's for a brief tantalising moment before he pulled away.

“I really don't” He clutched at Loras' shirt. “All I know is that I want you to carry on what you were doing or I might very well go mad.”

“Is that so?” Loras leant down to kiss Renly's stomach. “Well then all you need say is a few words.”

“I'll say anything.” Renly would probably beg at this point.

“Well then. Let me see.” Loras sat back on his heels. “I want you to tell me that I'm not too young to lie with you and that nothing would please you more to do that right now”

Renly raised his eyebrows in disbelief, laughing despite his desperate need. “You'll never make me say it.” He insisted. “I’ve told you. We’ll see after you’ve turned fourteen.”

“No we’ll see _now_.” Loras trailed his hand down the inside of Renly's thigh.

Renly shook his head. “How weak do you think my resolve is?!”

“Very weak.” Loras breathed, moving to sit astride Renly's hips. It was some momentary relief and it made Renly sigh softly. His need only grew worse however as Loras proceeded to sit as still as he possibly could, refusing to move against him even when Renly prodded him desperately.

Renly screwed his eyes shut. He couldn’t afford to be blackmailed like this. Loras would never let him live it down. “Nice try Loras but still my answer is not yet.” He pushed Loras off him. “When you’re fourteen I’ll reconsider.” He repeated, just to annoy Loras more than anything else.

Loras took that in his stride however, merely rolling over and grabbing Renly's wrists and leaning in to trail hot wet kisses down his neck. “Now” he growled.

Renly was about to protest again when there was a knock at the door.

Loras hopped off the bed as calmly as anything, sitting himself down innocently on a chair with his hands folded in his lap while Renly hurriedly pulled up his breeches and went to the door, patting his hair to make it lie flat. He was still breathing rather heavily but he didn't imagine it was at all obvious what he'd been engaged in.

Penrose stood outside, his expression weary. “We have guests my lord who are requesting an audience with you.”

Renly sighed, and glanced briefly over at Loras. Usually he’d turn guests away at such a moment but when Loras was in such a mood he’d no doubt get no satisfaction from doing so. Perhaps Penrose’s interruption was for the best. He turned back to the older man. “Guests? Who?”

“Ser Ronnet of House Connington my lord.”

Renly groaned. “What’s that fool doing here?” He ran a hand through his hair. “Can’t you tell him to go away? I can’t be bothered with him.”

Penrose laughed. “A fool he is my lord. I believe he’s paying a visit to thank you for the work you helped him do on Griffin’s Roost. It’s only just been finished apparently.”

Renly sighed. “Those stonemasons took their time about it.” He shrugged, failing to find any decent excuse as to why he might be unable to receive the young knight. “Very well then, inform Red Ronnet that I’ll be with him in a few moments.”

Penrose nodded and shut the door.

Renly turned back to Loras. He was hopeful Loras would suggest that he finish what he’d started in light of the circumstances, but one look at Loras’ face told him otherwise. It was an expression Renly recognized well, the particular one Loras wore when he was feeling particularly stubborn. Loras would concede nothing this day.

“Who’s this Red Ronnet?” Loras asked, getting up and leaning in to kiss him, his hands finding the small of Renly’s back and lingering teasingly there.

Renly batted away his hands. He could do without getting riled up again with no hope of release. “He’s the knight of Griffin’s Roost.” He told him. “One of the Conningtons. An utter fool at that.”

Loras didn’t attempt to tease him again. Instead his eyes had lit up. “He’s a knight. Can I challenge him?”

Renly laughed. “If you like. He’s probably quite good though, and he’s a good six years older than you. I won’t have you sulking if I have to pick up the pieces of your broken pride later.”

Loras snorted. “Before you assume that I’ll no doubt lose to this knight, when was the last time you actually saw me fight Renly?”

Renly cocked his head, thinking about it. Loras had helped him prepare for the jousting before the tourney, but as for actual sword work, Renly had probably not seen him at practice since he himself had fought him in a friendly match in the yard. That was probably over a year ago now and Renly smiled, remembering how he’d bettered Loras. “Probably when we fought that time.” He laughed. “Red Ronnet will no doubt be a lot better than me though. He’s got two years on me and I dare say he actually practises.”

“I hope you’re right in that he’s good.” Loras grinned. “I’ve been so bored as of late.”

Renly rolled his eyes and straightened his shirt, pulling the door open and beginning the descent down the many steps. Loras’ arrogance ought not to surprise him he supposed. Even as a child Loras had had no lack of confidence. He could only hope that Loras would do well enough against the knight for him not to sulk later, assuming Red Ronnet accepted his challenge of course. He couldn’t be bothered to soothe Loras’ ego later.

Red Ronnet was waiting in the entrance hall, flanked by several guards and with his sister at his side. She had her hair piled up about her head as if she were a woman rather than a young girl who’d been laced so tightly into her bodice that it gave the illusion of maturity.

Renly bit back a sigh. He had no doubt that the sister was the real reason for this visit. Nevertheless though he approached the knight and shook his hand warmly. “Ser Ronnet. It’s a pleasure.”

Ser Ronnet bowed and ushered his sister forward who also curtsied. Renly offered her his arm as was polite and ushered Loras forward in turn. “Ser Ronnet, Lady Alynne, this is Loras Tyrell, my squire. I’m sure he’ll be pleased to make your acquaintance.”

The pair turned to greet Loras. Usually squires would be all but ignored in such occasions as this, but with Loras being so high born and the Conningtons being merely a knightly house nowadays, courtesies were quickly extended.

“Let us take a turn about the gardens.” Renly suggested, falling in line with Red Ronnet, his sister still clinging nervously to his arm. Loras followed behind, looking mildly put out. Renly guessed he wasn’t used to having to actually act like Renly’s squire. Renly’s own household were so used now to the two of them being on such informal terms that no-one even batted an eyelid when the two of them walked together with no thought to their differences in rank.

He listened as Red Ronnet droned on about Griffin’s Roost, imputing words when necessary and remembering to nod when was appropriate. Indeed Red Ronnet claimed to have called in order to thank Renly for his aid in fixing the roof of Griffin’s Roost. Renly accepted his thanks gladly, even though privately he was quite sure the stonemasons he had sent would have finished months ago. He changed the subject and eventually the conversation turned back to that unfortunate maid, Red Ronnet’s former betrothed.

“How did you find the maid in the end my lord?” Red Ronnet asked, a sly grin on his face. “I’m sure you see now why that engagement was broken.”

“She seemed courteous enough.” Renly offered simply before commenting mildly on how nice the weather was today. He hoped that Red Ronnet would grasp that he had no desire to talk ill of the various maidens Ronnet had slightest, particularly in the company of a lady.

“The weather is indeed lovely my lord.” The girl said, agreeing meekly.

Renly bit back a sigh. He could have probably insisted that winter was upon them and she would have agreed just as sweetly.

“Why don’t we sit a while?” Renly gestured to a bench and took a seat, the other’s joining him. “The gardens aren’t much here, but we can at least enjoy the sun.”

“We visited Ashford a week past my lord.” The girl said, surprising Renly by speaking an entire sentence of her own. “The gardens there were beautiful. I’ve never seen such wonderful arrangements”

“I’ve never had the pleasure of visiting.” Renly said. He glanced over at Loras. “But I imagine my squire has, being of the Reach himself.”

He nudged Loras pointedly.

“What?” Loras evidently hadn’t been listening.

Renly resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Lady Alynne was just telling us how lovely the gardens are at Ashford at this time of year. I said no doubt you’d had the pleasure of visiting?”

“Ashford?” Loras sounded unimpressed. “I guess their gardens are tolerable.”

Renly bit back a sigh. Loras could be unbelievably rude sometimes. If he wasn’t in a mood for courtesies then he could be an utter nightmare in polite company. “It seems my squire has been spoilt by the beauty of Highgarden.” He said, smiling at the young girl. “I dread to think what he thinks of the poor excuse for gardens here.”

Red Ronnet spoke up now, laughing. “Let the Reach keep their gardening. We have more important things to occupy us here. The best knights of the realm have been born and bred here for centuries.”

Renly was about to agree amiably but Loras spoke up first, scowling. “Is that so Ser? He asked tightly “Which knights are you referring to?”

Red Ronnet laughed. “Many. We have Ser Barristan the Bold now, whilst Ser Balon Swann is said to be destined also for the Kingsguard. We’ve had King Robert himself, Ser Harlan Grandison, Ser Willem Wylde... both of the Kingsguard too. And of course my own ancestor, Ser Alyn Connington.” He smirked. “You might know him from the history books as the Pale Griffin. He was one of the best Lord Commanders in history.

Loras snorted. “The Pale Griffin the best Lord Commander in history? Don’t make me laugh. The White Bull was much better than him.”

Renly sighed. At this rate Loras wasn’t going to need to challenge Red Ronnet. The two were scowling at each other so much, their discussion looked like to become a full blown argument. Lady Alynne seemed nervous beside him, her eyes flicking from Loras to her brother and back again. Renly bit back a sigh as he saw that the young girl’s eyes lingered on Loras more than would have been usual.

“The white bull was killed in the rebellion.” Red Ronnet declared. “He can’t have been all that good or he’d still be here.”

Loras took this badly, standing up in indignation to defend what Renly remembered now was one of Loras’ relatives, if a far removed one. If Renly remembered correctly, Ser Gerold Hightower would have been uncle to Lord Leyton, Loras’ grandfather on his mother’s side.

“Loras.” Renly warned, putting his hand on his squire’s arm as the argument continued. He could feel the tense muscles under his fingers, Loras was like a coiled spring and any minute now Renly could see him losing his temper. They were bickering now about Leo Longthorn and again Red Ronnet was scoffing and insisting that various other knights from the Stormlands had been better.

Red Ronnet was on his feet too now and Renly increased his grip on Loras’ arm.

Loras ignored him. “It seems we disagree” He glared at Red Ronnet. “Why don’t we put both the Reach and the Stormlands to trial? Me, you. Here and now.”

Red Ronnet laughed and turned back to Renly. “I do believe Lord Renly that your pup of a squire is challenging me!” He drew himself up to his full height. “How old even is he? Thirteen?”

Loras just scowled, not letting on that Red Ronnet had indeed guessed his age correctly. He responded though to Renly’s insistent grip and took a deep breath. “Ser Ronnet.” He said as politely as he could through clenched teeth. “Would you do me the honour of a friendly match between the two of us?”

Red Ronnet bowed mockingly and accepted, taking a few paces back and unsheathing his sword with a flourish. His sister ran up and tucked one of her handkerchiefs in his pocket and Renly smiled as he wondered quite how strange it would look if he were to do the same with Loras.

He felt rather nervous as the two circled each other, their gaze locked and disdain plastered on both of their faces. Neither was armoured and yet both had real swords in their hands. Renly frowned, thinking that this could turn out to be a very bad idea indeed. Red Ronnet was six years Loras’ senior and of a height with Renly himself. He had more reach and power behind his blows that Loras could hope to have at just shy of four and ten. The young knight could do a lot of damage to Loras very easily. Renly could only hope that Red Ronnet was disciplined enough to handle his steel carefully. He was said to be skilled in combat and he would no doubt know that injuring one of Mace Tyrell’s sons in what was technically a friendly crossing of blades would be a bad idea. The worst that would happen no doubt was that Loras would come away with a few bruises and an even more bruised ego. Most likely, Renly would have to spend the evening watching Loras sulk and lick his wounds. Penrose would no doubt even call the defeat good for him, and as he watched Loras now, Renly had to admit that the older man would probably be right. Loras reeked of over-confidence and there wasn’t even a hint of wariness in those lovely golden eyes Renly loved.

For the moment though, Loras seemed to be holding his own. He was parrying the Griffin’s blows effortlessly and seemed to have lost none of his agility with age. His legs were longer now than when he’d faced Renly but his steps were just as quick, and he was as light on his feet as if he were dancing.

The sound of steel on steel soon rang out, echoing around the gardens and bouncing of the castle walls. It must have reached the training yard for several knights came up the path before long, standing around the duelling pair as they looked curiously on. The master at arms was among them, leaning on a lance as he studied the pair’s movements, his trained eye flicking between the two and picking up the intricate details Renly knew he probably missed.

He returned to watching them, his heart in his mouth as he watched the pair clash again and again. He couldn’t help but wince slightly every time Red Ronnet raised his sword too close to Loras’ face and he glanced anxiously at the master at arms, feeling slightly reassured when he saw the old knight was still watching intently. He would no doubt step in if things got out of hand and Renly tried to relax.

Loras was no doubt beautiful to watch Renly thought. He was all finesse and grace and beautiful long limbs. If it weren’t for his anxiety over Loras getting hurt, Renly no doubt would have enjoyed watching him. Loras’ curls flew out behind him as he ducked under blows, and Renly could understand why now Loras had seen fit to cut his hair. It had grown some since then and whilst it fell over his face, it wasn’t quite long enough yet to obscure his vision.

Renly held his breath anxiously, waiting for Red Ronnet to turn the tables on his young squire. It had to happen soon Renly reckoned. There was no way a self-respecting knight could allow a squire to hold up against him much longer without there being injury to his pride. Any minute now Red Ronnet would stop messing around and put an end to it with a well-placed blow and Loras would be sent sprawling to the ground.

He had to close his eyes as Red Ronnet lunged and indeed he heard the distinct thump as Loras hit the ground.

He took a deep breath as he opened his eyes to see the damage, and had to do a double take when he saw Loras’ blade at Red Ronnet’s throat and Red Ronnet with his face in the dirty, his hands up to yield. He was quite sure he’d seen wrongly. He’d known Loras was good for his age but Red Ronnet was a fully trained knight, six years older than him who Renly had been led to believe showed some talent with a blade.

Loras wasn’t smiling but Renly could tell he was pleased with himself all the same. He didn’t help Red Ronnet up as most opponents would in friendly matches and seemed to take pleasure in watching Red Ronnet scramble to his feet, his cloak soiled from the dust.

The other knights seemed riled up now and several walked up and challenged both Loras and Red Ronnet to another match. Both accepted and Renly got to his feet, with a quick smile at lady Alynne.

“That was poor of Ser Ronnet.” Renly commented to the master at arms. “I’d have expected the knight of Griffin’s roost to best a thirteen year old. Even if Loras is exceptionally good for his age.”

The master at arms laughed gruffly. “He never stood a chance that red bearded fellow. I could have told you as much from the beginning.”

Renly smiled. “Is Loras really as good as he makes out then?”

The master at arms sighed. “I don’t know how good Loras claims to be, but I dare say he is. I’ve no idea what to do with him now. Save Ser Guyard perhaps, there’s not a knight in Storm’s End that could even give him decent sport.”

Renly stared at him, his mouth slightly open. “But Loras is not yet fourteen. Surely he’s got a lot left to learn.”

The master at arms shrugged. “Not that I can teach him.” He frowned. “At least not with a sword or a lance. At the moment I’m insisting he perseveres with a mace so that he has at least something to do. I can’t have him flouncing around defeating knights left right and centre.”

“Couldn’t you challenge him?” Renly asked. “Just to give him something to work towards?”

“I could.” The master at arms shrugged. “But as shameful as it is, I’d be no real challenge for him either nowadays.”

Renly stared at him in disbelief. “You’re telling me that Loras is better than you?”

“Aye.” The master at arms admitted gruffly. “I hope you don’t mind me saying my lord, but the boy’s wasted as your squire. The new Jaime Lannister that one is.”

Renly didn’t really know what to say to that. Instead he laughed, his chest swelling with pride.

It was only later, lying in bed with Loras panting underneath him that the full implications of the master at arm’s words sunk in. _Loras was better than most knights. The master at arms had nothing left to teach him. Loras was wasted as his squire._ The words ran through his head until he could no longer think straight.

He rolled off Loras agitatedly, more frightened now than he had been even watching Loras fight that afternoon. Loras wouldn’t be his squire all that much longer it seemed. From the sounds of it he had long had the skill to be knighted.

“Loras.” He whispered. “I’ve changed my mind.”


	37. Chapter 37

“Are you sure you still want to do this?” Renly pressed a breathless kiss to Loras’ shoulder and raised his head to look Loras in the eyes. 

Loras looked like he would very much like to roll his eyes at the question, but nodded nonetheless, his hands pressed stickily against Renly’s chest and his legs intertwined with Renly’s own. 

Renly laughed. Even he had to admit that it had perhaps been a rather pointless question on his behalf. Loras had been all but begging Renly for this over the past few weeks now, and he’d practically jumped at the prospect when Renly had told him he’d changed his mind. Renly smiled. It had been all Renly could do to talk Loras out of trying then and there on the spot, and it had taken Renly several minutes of persuasion to convince Loras that his way would most likely be rather painful. Eventually Loras too had conceded grudgingly that it would not kill him to wait a day or so more and had consented to let them take their time about it. 

There was no more time to be taken now however and so Renly took a deep breath, flipping Loras over so that the boy was lying face down on his bed. It was effortless Renly thought, unsettlingly so, like picking up a child perhaps, and Renly couldn't help but worry for the fiftieth time that evening that he was going to hurt Loras. His squire seemed so slim, so breakable, a delicate reed he could snap if he wasn’t careful enough. He bit back a sigh. For all Loras’ strength and skill, he was a slip of a thing really. 

He reached over for the vial of oil and soon a familiar fragrance filled his senses. It was what Renly usually added to his baths, but he’d supposed it would do well enough for this purpose too. He’d been mildly concerned that it would sting but Loras had assured him yesterday that it didn’t. He guessed that if both he and Loras ended up enjoying this, he ought to take the time to find something a little more suitable. 

Loras was clutching one of Renly’s pillows to him now, his face buried in it and the fabric muffling his ragged breathing somewhat.

His gasp was audible however when Renly pushed a finger into him, and Renly could see his grip tighten on the pillow. He was more relaxed than when they had tried this yesterday, but all the same Renly worried he still wasn’t relaxed enough. He wasn’t sure he’d ever forgive himself if he ended by hurting this beautiful young boy who was permitting Renly to use his body as he pleased. 

He leant down to kiss Loras’ back, tracing the curve of Loras’ spine with his mouth, only adding another finger when he felt the tension seep out of him somewhat. 

Soon Loras was making little noises that made Renly want to take him there and then, soft sighs and low pitched hums that Loras seemed to be unaware he was making. Watching him now, gloriously naked and exquisite under his fingers, it was a miracle to Renly how he had resisted this for so long and his own heart was racing as he withdrew his fingers and rolled Loras over, leaning down to kiss him.

“You ready?” he whispered against Loras’ cheek. 

“Of course.” Loras nodded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world that he should be ready for such things. And yet looking at him now, Renly wondered quite how much of Loras’ current confidence was put on. There was an edge to Loras’ voice that didn’t belong there, and unless Renly was sorely mistaken, it bordered on nervousness.

“Are you sure?” Renly decided to check, pressing their bodies close. 

Loras didn’t deign to answer. He just rolled his eyes with as much of his usual bravado that he seemed able to muster and sighed exasperatedly as if Renly ought to have none better than to ask again. He turned over once more, burying his face again in Renly’s pillow and clutching it in anticipation.

Renly shook his head, laying a hand on Loras’ back. “Face me for this Loras?” He refused to have Loras turned away from him like he was some kind of whore Renly was using for his pleasure. 

Loras obliged and turned back over to face him. He didn’t say anything but somehow Renly got the feeling he was grateful for the suggestion. Their eyes locked and for a moment Loras’ mask cracked and he appeared to Renly as the thirteen year old he was. “Should I lie here Renly?” He asked quietly, raising his head to meet Renly’s gaze and his curls fanning out against the pillow. 

“I think that will work” Renly told him softly under his breath as if he knew about such things. He took a deep breath, leaning down to kiss Loras as he moved to kneel in between his legs. 

“This is ridiculously undignified.” Loras complained, laughing softly as Renly pulled his legs apart.

Renly smiled. He was no connoisseur of such things and yet he imagined there were a great deal many less dignified positions he could have put Loras in.

“You promise to tell me if I hurt you?” Renly leant down to kiss his stomach. The skin was soft and smooth under his mouth and he couldn’t help but brush his lips tantalisingly lower before pulling away. 

“You’re not going to hurt me.” Loras said confidently, gazing up at Renly with such complete trust in his eyes that Renly couldn’t help but feel guilty already. He wished that he could kiss away Loras’ nerves and promise him that he wouldn't hurt in the slightest, but he had a feeling that that wouldn’t be the case.

“I can’t promise you that.” He said quietly. “But you’ll tell me immediately if I do?”

Loras nodded and Renly leant down to kiss him once more before pulling back and taking a deep breath. Turning away from Loras slightly, he dipped his fingers back into the oil, smoothing it over himself this time. It was cool under his hands and made everything feel rather slippery which he supposed could only be a good thing. 

He hesitated for a good few moments before he finally pushed ever so slightly into Loras. The sensation was tighter and more exquisite than he could have imagined and he was thankful he had thought to stretch Loras wide with his fingers before attempting this. All the same, Loras cried out slightly as he pushed another inch in, his face screwed up in a painful reminder to Renly that he could easily hurt Loras quite seriously through this. 

He took a deep breath and tried to bring his desire back under control as he fought the urge to push the entire way in immediately. He could imagine how it would feel now and just the thought was enough to have his breath coming in ragged gasps and his heart racing. He forced himself to think straight however and leant down to kiss Loras, savouring the sensation of his mouth against his own and trying not to think overmuch about the tantalising heat around his cock. 

“Relax” he panted, teasing kisses down Loras’ clenched jaw. “I'm not going any further until I'm sure you do that for me.”

Loras gritted his teeth and nodded, reaching to take one of Renly's hands in his own and holding it tight. Renly let him do so, not complaining even when Loras’ fingers dug into him painfully as he continued his trail of kisses down Loras’ neck.

It was a good few moments before the tension went out of Loras’ hands and Renly felt him relax slightly underneath him. 

His own need was desperate now and he moaned slightly as he pushed forward a little more, Loras’ eyes widening as he took more and more of Renly in. He cried out again as he took the last inch, and Renly felt a stab of guilt as he saw him wince ever so slightly, his grip tightening once more on Renly’s hand. He didn’t complain however and merely gazed up at Renly with an expression that made Renly’s heart skip a beat. If he hadn't known he adored Loras long before that moment, he knew he would have realised it then. Loras was not submissive by nature, yet here he was underneath him, laying himself vulnerable to Renly, trusting him in the most intimate way possible.

“I really do love you Loras.” He panted, leaning in to kiss him deeply and feeling Loras smile against his lips. 

Loras seemed to relax slightly then and Renly found he couldn’t find it in his self-control to remain still anymore. Breathlessly, he began to move against Loras, his breath hitching as Loras took him again and again. The sensation was more than even he had anticipated and yet Renly couldn't help but feel rather clumsy, his movements rather more jarring than he would have liked. Loras too seemed to be all angles, moving awkwardly against him as Renly’s cock forced its entry time and time again.

He was beginning to find a rhythm when Loras’ grip on his forearms tightened once more, Loras and he heard the sharp intake of breath. He glanced at Loras in alarm. His squire was shaking his head, his eyes wide and his teeth gritted. 

“You want to stop?” Renly asked him hurriedly. From a selfish perspective it was the last thing he wanted to do but he suspected even the loss of such a sensation would pale in comparison to how awful he’d feel if Loras felt obliged to continue despite any pain he might be causing him. 

“I don’t want to stop” Loras’ voice was tight and breathless. “But can we try it somehow else? It hurts a little like this.”

Renly pulled out as quickly as he could and tried to ignore the guilt washing over him. The sensible part of Renly was telling him to ignore what Loras had insisted about carrying on and to stop anyway. To Renly’s shame however, the more selfish part of him won out. It would have taken the sort of will power he didn’t possess to ignore both Loras’ words and his own desire. 

And so against his better judgement perhaps, he leant down to kiss Loras, rolling them both over so that Loras was atop him, gasping as his cock brushed against Loras’ thighs. “Go really slowly.” He insisted. “And promise me you’ll stop if it still hurts?”

Loras nodded and knelt up, taking Renly’s cock in his hands ad trying to align himself right. It took him a few tries to get the angle right but soon Loras was sinking onto his cock, a look of stubborn determination on his face as he slowly took him inch by inch. 

Renly placed his hands on Loras’ hips and let the sensation wash over him as Loras sank lower and lower onto to him, the tight heat surrounding his cock once more. It was indeed easier like this and soon Loras had taken him all, his breathing heavy as he sat completely flat against him. Renly let out a soft sigh as he glanced up at him. He couldn’t kiss Loras lying down like this but he was quite sure that the view all but entirely made up for such a loss. The sight of his cock buried deep within Loras was almost enough to tip him over the edge there and then and have him panting Loras’ name. 

“You alright?” Renly breathed, though from the way Loras was already moving against him, he was quite sure Loras was perfectly alright. 

Renly’s breath was coming quicker now, Loras rocking against him as if moments earlier he hadn’t been wincing in pain. He was tipping forward now, his back arched and his head thrown back slightly as he sunk again and again onto Renly’s cock as if he’d been born doing such things. 

Renly closed his eyes and let out another low moan as Loras’ heat squeezed around him once more. He was just beginning to lose himself in the sensation when another cry, the loudest and most worrying yet, made his eyes snap open in panic.

He froze, reaching up to grasp Loras’ hand and preparing to grovel for the hurt he’d evidently caused the young boy. He cursed himself under his breath. He ought to have been paying more attention, being more careful with the precious creature sat astride him. 

Loras glanced down at him, a mix of desire, confusion and annoyance on his face. “Why have you stopped?” he panted. 

“Haven’t I hurt you?” Renly squeezed his hand, a pang of guilt shooting through his chest. 

Loras shook his head vehemently. “What made you think that?” He asked, impatience in his voice. The usual insolent airs were back and Renly almost breathed a sigh of relief despite his worry. It had pained him no end to see Loras nervous. It suited him ill and he’d found it more than a little disconcerting. 

“It most certainly sounded like I hurt you though?” Renly moved his hands back to Loras’ hips, helping him rock back and forwards against him once more. 

“Well you didn’t” Loras breathed, rolling his eyes. “In fact whatever you just did, do it again?” Loras nudged him impatiently and Renly laughed. He wasn’t quite certain to be honest what either of them had done to make Loras cry out like that, but all the same he did his best. It wasn’t until after much experimentation with different angles that Loras gasped again and he let out the most delicious sound Renly had ever heard.

Renly fought to catch his breath and yet he knew despite his best efforts he would be unable to make the pleasure last much longer. Sure enough, his self-control broke as Loras sank back down onto him for a final time and Renly found himself gripping Loras’ hips tight enough to leave a bruise as his back arched and he finally took his pleasure, his hands pulling Loras as close as he could get him and his seed spilling deep inside of him. 

He withdrew as gently as he could and pulled Loras to him. He reached down to the younger boy's cock and within a few moments Loras had come too, hot and sticky in Renly’s palm. 

“You alright?” Renly breathed in Loras' ear as his heart pounded in his chest.

“A bit sore.” Loras admitted, burying his head in Renly's shoulder. “But most definitely worth it.” 

“Will you want to do it again then?” Selfishly, Renly hoped that Loras would but he knew that if Loras even so much as implied that he didn’t want to, then he would never be able to bring himself to touch him in such a way again. He stroked Loras' curls softly and held him to him.

“Of course.” Loras sighed, clutching Renly tightly. “But only ever with you.”

Renly smiled and wrapped his arms tightly around him, shifting him slightly to get both of them comfortable. Loras let himself be moved easily, his hair a rumpled mess as he lay calmly in Renly’s arms. Renly smiled down at him. For his all squire’s spirit, Loras was perhaps not as wilful and stubborn as Renly had always assumed him to be. He very rarely denied Renly anything and more often than not Renly suspected Loras would follow where he led, regardless perhaps of where it took him. 

“I didn’t hurt you too much?” He asked, pressing a kiss to the corner of Loras’ mouth. 

Loras shrugged. “It hurt a bit at first.” He winced. “Quite a bit actually. But it got better” He grinned.  
“A lot better.”

Renly frowned. “I’m sorry I hurt you.” 

Loras laughed softly. “I’m sure I’ll forgive you.” He yawned slightly in Renly’s arms and buried his face in Renly’s shoulder. “Why did you change your mind about it?”

Renly didn’t answer for a while. He wasn’t sure if Loras would have given much thought to what would have to happen once he was knighted. For all he knew, it had never occurred to his squire that he would have little choice but to return to Highgarden when such a day came. 

He bit back a sigh. For as long as he had known Loras, his squire had wanted nothing else but to become a knight and Rely would not have that dream tainted for him. It would be futile to voice his fears to Loras. It could not change the inevitable and there was no point both of them fretting over it. “I guess I realised it was pointless to wait.” He said eventually. It wasn’t a lie he supposed. It was just a kinder way of telling the truth. 

Loras smiled against his shoulder. “Was it because I’m too irresistible?” He asked sleepily. 

Renly laughed into his curls. “Most definitely.” He agreed. There was certainly no lie there. Resisting Loras’ wishes had been becoming harder and harder by the day. “You’re beautiful Loras.”

“Obviously.” Loras’ eyes were shutting now and he leant heavily against Renly, his breath tickling his neck. Renly smiled and pulled him closer, kissing Loras’ forehead gently. He loved Loras when he was like this, all warm and soft and half asleep in his arms. 

His weight against him was a comforting presence and he held him tight long after Loras had fallen asleep. He would not be here with him forever Renly thought sadly, but he was here now, and for the moment that had to be enough.


	38. Chapter 38

It got easier and better with practice Renly found. He hurt Loras less and less each time and it had been a week now since he’d caused the young boy to wince or cry out in pain. He suspected this was probably more to do with Loras relaxing than due to any great skill on his part, but privately at least he liked to take at least some of the credit. Either way, he was quickly learning what Loras liked and how to give it to him.

Not that it was at all difficult to work out what Loras liked… Quite the opposite in fact Renly thought to himself one time as Loras rocked against him and let out a loud whimper. That seemed to be the only problem remaining in fact. 

“You know what Loras?” He whispered as Loras cried out once more. “You’re really loud.” 

Loras just gasped loudly in response, proving Renly’s point somewhat. 

Renly laughed breathlessly, reaching up and putting a hand over Loras’ mouth. “This is what you get Loras unless you quieten down.” 

Loras just rolled his eyes and nipped at Renly’s hands. 

“I’m serious.” Renly insisted through laughter, withdrawing his hand away hurriedly as Loras went to bite him again. “If you’re not careful you’ll alert the whole castle to what we do.” He pulled out and turned Loras over, thrusting a pillow in his face. “Here. Use this.” It felt rather strange to have Loras facing away from him, but if this was what it was going to take to get Loras to shut up, he supposed he would have to get used to it. 

Loras cried out once more as Renly entered him again. The pillow muffled it slightly but still it was rather too loud for Renly’s liking. It was early morning, people would already be up and about and many would have reason to be walking through this part of the castle. Renly was all too aware of quite how well sound carried in Storm’s End; it bounced off the stone walls and echoed down the corridors, and if he and Loras weren’t more careful, gossip would carry just as quickly. 

“Shhh” he tried to insist as Loras cried out once more underneath him. He was close now though and he didn’t really have the discipline tell Loras to be quiet with any real conviction. Loras, as such, seemed to pay him no mind at all, gasping regardless into the pillow as he took Renly a final few times. 

Renly rolled off him once he was done, and turned Loras over to give him his own release. It took barely any time at all Loras was so worked up, and he sighed softly into Renly’s mouth as he took his pleasure. 

Renly laughed exasperatedly. “See you can be quiet there, why can’t you do that earlier?”

Loras grinned sheepishly, an expression that looked quite bizarre Renly thought on Loras’ face. He shrugged and glanced around the room as if the right words were written on the walls of Renly’s chambers. “It’s different.” He said eventually.

“How so?” Renly rolled his eyes and kissed him on the cheek. “It can’t be overly difficult to shut your mouth?”

“I can’t explain it.” Loras insisted. “I tried. I honestly did. But I just couldn’t help it.”

Renly grinned. “You’re going to have to get very well acquainted with that pillow then.” 

Loras laughed. “I guess so.” He patted the pillow fondly before hopping off the bed and beginning to pull his smallclothes on. “I’ll come find you later Renly?” 

Renly nodded. He was long used to Loras running off each and every morning with his sword at his belt for practice and he smiled as Loras went to Renly’s wardrobe and tugged the rest of his clothes over his head. Shamefully perhaps, most of Loras’ clothes seemed to have migrated to Renly’s room and Loras’ own wardrobe now was rather bare, mostly containing only garments that Loras had either long grown out of or had torn in the training yard. 

Loras leant down to kiss him when he’d dressed and Renly looped his arms around his waist and tried to pull him down beside him. They were both perhaps too old for games but they both took great pleasure in this one. Every morning Renly would do his best to persuade Loras to return to his bed instead of going off to practice and every morning Loras would do his best to thwart him. Renly hadn’t won yet, and today seemed to be not his day either for Loras batted his hands away playfully and bounded out of his reach before Renly could even try to grab him again. 

Renly sighed and dramatically and collapsed back against his pillows in defeat. He didn’t have the energy to get up and chase Loras further today, and he always failed to catch him anyway. “Have fun.” he called instead as Loras gave him one last victorious smirk and the door clicked shut behind him. 

He smiled to himself and forced himself to get out of bed himself. He was just pulling his smallclothes on however when the door swung back open without warning. Renly startled and pulled his smallclothes up as hurriedly as he could to hide his modesty. 

He rolled his eyes though when he saw it was only Loras again. “You just left.” He laughed. “Have my charms finally convinced you to return to bed?” 

“Unfortunately not. I guess you’ll have to try harder tomorrow.” Loras grinned. “I have a letter for you.” He crossed the room and tossed it on the bed. “Royal seal, looks exciting.”

“Where did you get that from?” Renly laughed. “I refuse to believe you found it lying on the floor outside.” 

“I ran into Edric in the corridor. Apparently Penrose told him to deliver it to you directly.” He smiled. “I guess letters from the king are too precious to be kept waiting.” 

“Well what was he doing giving it to you then if he was told to take it straight to me?” Renly pulled on his breeches and went to sit back on the bed. “You are not me.” 

“Apparently...” Loras grinned.” And these are your nephew’s words and not mine. Apparently, it makes no difference which one of us he gives it to, seeing as according to him we’re practically the same person anyway.”

“Great.” Renly laughed. “Even the nine years olds have noticed I spend too much time with you.”

“Too much time?” Loras retorted, coming to sit in between Renly’s legs. He glanced up and tilted his head back to press a kiss to Renly’s jaw. “I’m offended.” 

Renly rolled his eyes and leant down for a proper kiss. He laughed when Loras showed no sign of getting up again. “I see how it is.” He chuckled. “You won’t stay for me, but you’ll stay for exciting letters from my brother? Perhaps it’s me who ought to be offended here!” 

Loras laughed. “I can have you anytime I like. Letters from the kings on the other hand… that’s quite a rare occurrence. My curiosity forbids me to leave again quite yet.”

Renly laughed. “You know curiosity killed the cat Loras.”

“Good thing I’m not a cat then.” Loras stretched out across the bed lazily.

Renly rolled his eyes before turning his attention to the letter Loras had handed him. It indeed bore the royal seal, and was even in his brother’s own hand Renly thought. He didn’t really receive enough correspondence from Robert to know for sure though. For all he knew, the writing he assumed to be Robert’s could be any one of his small council’s. 

He smiled as he came to the end and turned to his squire, still lounging elegantly across his bed. He tapped him on the shoulder. “How would you like to see King’s Landing Loras?”

Loras grinned. “What’s the occasion?”

“Robert’s hosting me a tourney for my next name day.”

“That’s nice of him.” Loras nudged him. “See, your brothers do sometimes do nice things for each other. You always make it out to be all doom and gloom between you and your siblings.”

Renly laughed. “I guess. I’d be naïve indeed though to think that this reflects any feeling for me. More like that Robert’s finally run out of other reasons to hold Tourneys. I’m just his next excuse for over indulging.” He smiled. He cared very little to be honest. “It will be good fun. There’ll be dancing, and feasts, and skilled knights for you to watch and fawn over instead of me.”

Loras didn’t laugh as he usually would at such a jest. Instead he seemed deep in thought.

“Renly?” He said cautiously, in a tone that immediately told Renly he was about to ask for something. 

“Yes?” Renly raised an eyebrow.

“Can I take part?”

The question surprised Renly and more than unsettled him. Squires weren’t supposed to participate in tourney’s, and it was very rare that one did. Loras was skilled enough to be one of the rare ones who could probably cope he knew, but it wasn’t the worry of Loras getting hurt that made him hesitant to grant what appeared on the surface a very simple request. He worried about quite the opposite in fact. It was the prospect of Loras doing well that bothered him. If he rode admirably, Renly would have no choice but to knight him. 

“It’s not really done is it, squires entering tourneys.” Renly said, frowning and shamelessly skirting around the real reason for his hesitation. “People might think you a little young.”

Loras laughed dryly. “It seems like I'm too young for everything nowadays.” He leant up to kiss him. “In all seriousness though, I’m not that young at all. Barristan the Bold was but ten when he entered his first tourney.” He glanced up at Renly. “You should know that best of all people. It was here, when your grandfather perhaps was lord of Storm’s End.”

“That was a long time ago.” Renly said slowly. 

“I’ll be fourteen in a fortnight.” Loras’ face was determined. “Long a man full grown.”

Renly laughed agitatedly. “Tell me that again when you actually start growing some hair on that pretty little face of yours.”

Loras scowled and rolled his eyes. “If I’m grown enough for you to fuck me, I’m grown enough to ride in a tourney.”

Renly grimaced. Loras most likely had a point there. “I’ll tell you what.” Renly told him, feeling guilty now. “I’ll think on it while you’re at practice.” 

Loras grinned as if he’d got his way already and bounced up off the bed, going back out the way he’d come. 

Renly sat for a long while after Loras had left. He wondered whether Loras would be as eager to participate if he knew quite what that would mean. He bit back a sigh as he contemplated his options. He either had to forbid Loras from ridingin the tourney, facing his squire’s wrath in the hope of buying some more time with him here, or he had to let him ride and face sooner the prospect of Storm’s End without him. Neither choice appealed much to him. 

He paced anxiously about the room. If Loras were given the choice between staying with him for a little while longer on one hand and being knighted on the other, what would he choose? Renly didn’t know the answer and wasn’t as confident as he would have liked to be that Loras would choose in his favour if given the choice. 

He sighed and walked to the door. He couldn’t force Loras to make that choice. 

………………...........................................................................................................................................................................................................................

Penrose was in the solar as usual and seemed to know something was troubling Renly as soon as he walked in. He glanced up from his letters as Renly sat down across the table from him. 

“I trust Edric delivered that letter?” He studied Renly’s face. “Bad news from Kings Landing is it Renly?” 

Renly forced himself to laugh. “Not at all.” He sighed. “Robert’s planning on giving a tourney for my eighteenth name day.”

Penrose raised an eyebrow. “Seems simple enough and yet you look like something’s on your mind.”

Renly sighed. He supposed there was little point beating about the bush. “Loras has asked me if he can compete. I wasn’t sure if he was a bit young for it?”

Penrose frowned. “He’ll be four and ten by then no?”

Renly nodded, his heart sinking. Four and ten and preparing to go back to Highgarden it seemed. 

“He’s certainly good enough.” Penrose said fairly. “But tread carefully. Mace Tyrell has already learnt the consequences once of putting boys into tourneys too young.”

“I’d forgotten about that.” Renly admitted. “Willas was unlucky though, and nobody could possibly claim Loras is out of his depth. The master at arms told me himself that he’s better than most of the knights here.” 

Penrose smiled. “Then there’s your answer my lord. If the master at arms says he’s good enough then I would take his word for it.”

“Yes, but-” Renly faltered. His reasons for protesting were hardly suitable for Penrose. He would rather Penrose remained very much in the dark about such things. 

“But what my lord?” 

Renly sighed. “But squires competing in tourneys? Well it’s just not done.” 

It’s not unheard of my lord.” He frowned and his eyes met Renly’s for a moment. “If you’re so worried about what people will think, knight him before you go then. It makes no difference really. 

Renly had no answer to that and so it was with a heavy heart that Renly eventually left the solar and trudged up to his chambers once more, his unhappy decision made. He couldn’t justify forbidding Loras from competing, not when both the master at arms and Penrose believed him ready for it. Even if he could have done, Renly suspected he didn’t really have it in him to outright deny Loras something he desired. Loras would have to be knighted before long, tourney or no tourney, and Renly could not see him disappointed so for the sake of buying a few extra months. 

Loras had evidently finished practice and was sitting on his bed as if it were his own.

The tourney seemed not to have slipped his mind. “Have you thought about it?” he asked as soon as Renly had come into the room. Part of Renly had been hoping he would have forgotten and he bit back a sigh.

“If that’s what you want.” He told him rather stiffly. “Then I’m not going to say no.”

Loras grinned. “It’s going to be so much fun.” 

“Indeed.” Renly turned away so that Loras wouldn’t see his expression. His name day was several moons off still. There would be time enough to discuss what would come after. 

“Anyway enough talk.” Loras was already pulling off his shirt and grinning. “I’ll promise I’ll be quiet this time?”

Renly was forced to laugh at that. He was surprised Loras wasn’t perpetually sore from the amount of times he had asked this of him. Renly wasn’t about to complain though, and his breeches were already growing tight by the time Loras was down to his small-clothes.

“That about you promising to be quiet?” Renly grinned as he moved to pull the laces out of Loras’ breeches for him. “Can I have that in writing?”

Loras snorted. “And risk having hard evidence of the sort of wonderfully illicit things we get up to?” He grinned wickedly up at Renly, and slipped a hand down into Renly’s breeches. “I think not.” He laughed and nipped at Renly’s bottom lip. “I’ll do my best to be quiet. Practice makes perfect you know.”

Renly laughed. If that were the case, Loras was going to be very perfect before long.


	39. Chapter 39

The news about the tourney swept through the castle like wildfire and within the week every knight in Storm’s End seemed to be training with renewed vigour, some even rising with the sun to try to make the most of the day. For two days in a row now, Renly had woken up alone, the side of his bed Loras usually slept on long gone cold in his absence.

He tried not to take it personally. It was to be Loras’ first tourney and besides, he would return without fail every afternoon, covered in dust from the training yard and thoroughly worn out. He’d let Renly kiss his aching limbs and little by little his curls would get yet more tangled in Renly’s eager hands.

Renly smiled as he got dressed, looking forward already to when Loras would be done for the day. For now though, it looked like he would have to entertain himself. He scanned his chambers looking for something to occupy himself. His eyes fell on the letter Robert had sent him. Brother or not, he supposed it was rude to keep a king waiting, and so he picked it up dutifully to begin composing a reply.

He took it outside, taking a seat on a bench a couple of hundred feet from the training yard. He could see the knights and squires practising from here and grinned as he watched Loras take on Ser Guyard, the knight’s green cloak swirling out behind him as he fought to hold Loras off. He was beautiful to watch Renly thought, his movements fluid and elegant whilst the sunlight played in his curls and made them shine like dark gold.

After a few minutes he tore his gaze away and turned his attention to the letter in his lap, taking his time this time in reading its contents.

Robert’s letters were much more interesting that Stannis’, though greatly less frequent. His eldest brother always talked little of official affairs, and aside from an offhand comment about yet more talk of betrothing the crown prince to one of Eddard Stark’s daughters, he said almost nothing of what was going on in the capital in this particular one. Unsurprisingly, there was certainly no mention of what Loras had informed him about the crown being in debt and Renly wondered if either of his brothers would ever think to tell him. For a change though, Robert sounded in a better mood than he usually did, and Renly thought he might have known why by the time he got to the end. Stannis apparently was to be vacating Kings Landing within the fortnight, and would be spending the next month in Brightwater Keep with his wife’s family. Robert seemed like he would be glad to see him leave, and Renly could almost hear his laughter as Robert then went on to make several rather cruel jokes about the unfortunate Florent ears.

Renly smiled and made a mental note to show that part to Loras. His squire’s distaste for the Florents was almost as strong as his distaste for the Dornish and he suspected Loras would very much enjoy reading Robert’s comments on them. It was such a pity Renly thought, for a family to be cursed with such a set of looks. His nephew too had the Florent ears, inherited from his mother’ side, but thankfully had escaped the freckles. The servants often commented that Edric’s ears were the only thing that distinguished him from how Renly himself looked at that age.

Renly’s heart sunk once more as he reread the part about the tourney. Usually he would have looked forward to such an event but it seemed somehow tainted for him now. Even so though, he couldn’t help laughing at his brother’s parting words. Robert finished his letter by adamantly insisting that Renly brush up on his drinking skills. Apparently Robert would be expecting nothing but the very best from his youngest brother on his name day. Flagons of Arbour vintage were already being set aside for the event Robert told him.

His laughter brought Loras over, a curious smile on his face and a slight bruise coming up on his cheek.

“That looks painful.” Renly laughed and shifted up along the bench to make room for him. “Did Ser Guyard put you in your place?”

Loras just grinned and gestured over his shoulder. Ser Guyard was still picking himself off the ground, his pretty green cloak covered with dirt.

“I guess not then.” He sighed dramatically. “I guess I’ll have to do it myself later this evening.”

Loras laughed, his eyes meeting Renly’s for a split second before he glanced down at the letter on Renly’s lap. “Another letter?” he asked, his hand brushing Renly’s leg as he reached down to pick it up for a closer look.

Renly shook his head. “No, the same one. I was just taking the time to read it properly and think about answering it.”

“Anything interesting apart from the bit about the tourney?” Loras leant over Renly’s shoulder to peer down at it.

Renly pointed to the part about the Florents and smiled as Loras laughed when he’d read it, obviously appreciating the fact that the king seemed to share at least some of Loras’ distaste for the family.

“He has a point.” Loras grinned. “I’d feel sorry for them if they weren’t such pains in the neck.”

“Play nice” Renly said, nudging him. “It wouldn’t do for anyone to catch you bad mouthing your father’s bannermen.”

Loras rolled his eyes and read on. He glanced up when he came to the part about the tourney. “Are you looking forward to your name day?” he asked.

Renly hesitated before answering. “Yes and no” he said eventually, dithering over how much he wanted to say on the matter.

“Why’s that?” Loras let the letter fall back into Renly’s lap and laid a hand on Renly’s arm.

Renly bit back a sigh. Mainly because of you he wanted to say. Instead though he held his tongue and laughed. “Why’s that? I don’t know- maybe because Roberts going to insist I get so drunk that I’ll most likely throw up on the table.

“Well so long as you don’t throw up on me that’s fine.”

Renly laughed. “Anyway enough about my name day. It’s yours first. Anything you fancy doing?”

Loras grinned. “Nothing in particular. Staying in bed all day?”

Renly laughed. “Sounds like my kind of day.” He smiled and took Loras’ hand, glancing around to check no one was chancing to look in their direction. He would be more than happy to spend the entire day in bed with Loras.

 

* * *

 

 

It was what Loras had asked for and so that was exactly what they ended up doing.

As it happened, it was past midday by the time they woke up, the sun shining through the drapes and the door securely barred from the inside. Renly rolled over and nudged Loras gently next to him. “You awake?” he asked.

“Mmm hmm” Loras nodded and sat up, yawning slightly.

“How does it feel to be four and ten?” Renly smiled and pressed a kiss into his curls.

Loras laughed. “I feel positively ancient.”

Renly grinned and pulled him closer. “So…” He whispered in Loras’ ear. “Why was again that it you wanted to spend the entire day in bed?”

“I’m sure you couldn’t possibly imagine why.” Loras leant back lazily against Renly’s pillows, his hair sticking up untidily all over the place.

Renly smiled. Loras was beautiful in his silks and fancy brocades, but somehow Renly liked to think him even more beautiful as he was now, clad simply in nothing but the white cottons of his smallclothes and his hair still ruffled from sleep. It pleased him no end to know that he was the sole person who Loras would permit to see him like this.

He leant over to run his fingers through that beautiful hair now, sighing slightly against Loras’ cheek.

“Renly?” Loras’ voice brought him out of his musings.

“Mmm-hmm.” Renly hummed in reply as he let his hands roam over Loras’ shoulders.

“Seeing as it’s my name day…” Loras paused and glanced up at him. “How would you feel if we swapped round?”

It took Renly a few moments to comprehend Loras’ meaning and when he did he laughed. “So this is your idea of my present to you is it?” He grinned. “You didn’t have to wait till your name day you know. You only had to ask.”

Loras shrugged. “Well I’m asking now.”

Renly laughed again. “I’ll eat my hat the day that you ask me something and I say no.”

Loras kissed him. “You’ll be waiting a long time for that day.”

“I dare say you’re right” Renly sighed dramatically. “I’m a poor excuse for the lord of Storm’s End aren’t I?”

To his surprise Loras shook his head vehemently at these words. “Don’t say that. You’re the best of them all Renly. Your people love you.”

Renly smiled. “I’m glad you think so.”

He smiled. “I know so.” He paused, deep in thought. “And you know Renly don’t you, that even though I might be well… rather stubborn sometimes, if you ever wanted something of me, if you ever sincerely wanted something of me, then I’d do it.” He smiled. “Without question probably.”

Renly felt a sudden rush of affection for Loras and leant down to kiss him. He couldn’t help grin though, a sudden thought taking him. “You say you’d do anything?”

“Anything.” Loras breathed. “If you asked it of me.”

“What ab-”

“Except for getting into water again.” Loras interrupted him as if he’d read Renly’s mind and grinned. “That is an exception to the rule.”

Renly laughed. “I thought that sounded too good to be true.” He twirled a strand of Loras’ hair around his finger. “Anyway enough about me. Today is about you.” He pressed a kiss to Loras’ neck and leant in closer to whisper in Loras’ ear. “What was it you wanted again?”

“You.” Loras said shortly, laughing and propping himself up on one elbow.

Renly sighed dramatically. “So it’s my turn to be debauched is it?”

“Most definitely.” Loras nipped at the skin of his neck. “Count yourself lucky. I’m the one who had to suffer through neither of us knowing what we were doing. You’re getting the easy way out.”

He laughed and turned to Loras, letting Loras take his hands in his own. “Well then, this is when I relinquish all power to you then.” He grinned. “Where do you want me?”

Loras didn’t answer. He just wrapped his arms around him and rolled them over so he was on top of Renly. He eased up Renly’s hips and slid a pillow underneath them. It was something he Renly had tried with Loras a few days ago and they had both found it made things greatly easier.

“You don’t want me on top?” Renly laughed.

“I might never walk again with how heavy you are.” Loras said, the gleam in his eyes betraying his complete lack of sincerity, “I did tell you it might be wise to find something better to do with your time than attend feasts every other day.”

Renly laughed. “I have found something better to do with my time.” He nudged Loras meaningfully and grinned.

Loras bent down so that his face was inches from Renly’s and Renly could see he was trying to keep a straight face. “Renly” he started, laughter in his eyes. “Are you sure y-“

Renly cut him off with a well-aimed pillow and rolled his eyes. “Are you mocking me Loras?” He laughed.

“No.” Loras said with as much sincerity as he could manage. “It’s just that at only seven and ten… well I thought that you might be a little young f-“

Renly leant up and clamped a hand over his mouth. “Get on with it will you?” he laughed and pushed Loras’ hands down.

Loras grinned and kissed Renly’s stomach. “In all seriousness though Renly.” He started tugging Renly’s smallclothes down. “Do tell me if I hurt you. I know how that feels and I can tell you it’s not pleasant in the slightest when it does.”

Renly laughed and nodded, relaxing back against the bed. It was quite a nice change he thought to hand all the responsibility over to Loras.

Loras’ fingers were uncharacteristically gentle as he got to work and Renly sighed as he started to understand why Loras loved being touched in this way quite so much. It was a strange feeling Renly thought as Loras added another finger but he found he was able to relax into it, letting Loras work him wide open. Loras had only done this sort of thing a handful of times, to himself when they were particularly short of time some mornings, but he certainly seemed to know what he was doing and what would feel good to Renly. Indeed, before too long Renly found himself aching for more and he nudged Loras desperately.

Loras grinned and leant down to kiss him, keeping two fingers holding him open. “Are you s-“

Renly laughed breathlessly. “Yes I’m sure.” He sighed and tried not to tense in anticipation. He’d hurt Loras enough times to know that he would be letting himself in for a considerable amount of pain if he refused to relax.

He couldn’t help gasping slightly though as Loras pushed into him, closing his eyes and trusting that Loras knew what he was doing.

He was relieved when he found it was only mildly uncomfortable. Loras went very slowly, easing himself into Renly with more patience than Renly had ever seen his squire show. He nudged him when he was fully in, pulling Renly’s legs tightly around his waist and leaning down so he was pressed against Renly’s chest.

“Alright?” Loras was panting already.

Renly nodded. “You?”

“It’s quite intense isn’t it?” Loras laughed breathlessly. “I’m not quite sure how you manage to keep going for so long.”

Renly laughed and wrapped his arms around Loras’ neck. “Superior self-control?”

Loras just laughed and shifted, Renly feeling a dull jolt of pleasure as Loras began moving.

It was a rather different kind of pleasure than the other way round, but Renly found he enjoyed it almost as much. There was something rather nice about relinquishing all the responsibility to Loras and it was almost a relief not to worry at all about hurting him. He didn't however understand why Loras found it quite so difficult to be quiet. He himself had no need of the pillow.

Loras paused a few minutes in and glancing up Renly could see that his squire had a look of deep concentration on his face.

Renly laughed. “It is too much for you?”

Loras grimaced. “Maybe.” He admitted, and Renly could see the tell-tale signs that his words were true. His eyes were dark with desire and his breathing heavy and uneven above him. Loras would most likely not last much longer.

“It’s alright” he said softly. “We can leave it here if you like.”

Loras laughed. “We might have to.” He gritted his teeth and began moving again, his self-control collapsing around him as he pushed into Renly for a final few times. Within moments he had proved them both right, collapsing against Renly and panting.

“So how did you find it?” Renly breathed against Loras’ cheek.

Loras laughed, still out of breath. “It’s harder than you make it look.”

Renly grinned. “As I said, superior self-control.”

Loras rolled his eyes. “What about you?”

“It was interesting.” Renly smiled. “I’d be lying if I said I preferred it to the other way round, but it still felt good.”

Loras laughed and rolled off him, tucking his head under Renly’s arm. “That’s convenient. The usual way round is far superior if you ask me.” He grinned. “So I guess you’ll have to keep putting up with me being loud.”

Renly rolled his eyes and tugged him closer again, taking him roughly in his arms. His own desire was as of yet still unquenched and Loras’ weight and heat against him only made matters worse. He’d give Loras a few moments or so to catch his breath before returning the favour.


	40. Chapter 40

It was one of those lazy evenings spent in Renly’s bed, the drapes half drawn and the fading light casting shadows about the room. 

Renly adored evenings spent in this way; he relished moments like these when they did nothing but lie across Renly’s bed together and soak up each other’s presence, both without a care in the world, and both with nowhere they’d rather be and no one they’d rather see.

Today however it seemed that Loras had got the best of him, and he sighed as he contemplated current situation. Loras had him lying flat on his front and was at present using him as a sort of makeshift writing desk, leaning the parchment against Renly’s back as he composed a letter to his sister Margaery. 

Renly smiled. There was no doubt that Loras had wrapped round his little finger and sometimes he couldn’t help but wondered who the squire was in this relationship. He was the lord of Storm’s End and yet here he was, reduced to being used like a piece of common furniture. He sighed, laughing slightly at the ridiculousness of it all. 

Loras looked up from his letter and shot a curious glance at Renly. “What's so funny?”

“Do you really have to use me as a table?” Renly teased, craning round to tug on Loras’ curls and almost upsetting the vial of ink Loras had balanced precariously against his leg. 

“Well you're hardly being a very good one. Keep still will you.” He shot Renly a pointed look as if daring him to defy him. “My writing will be all over the page at this rate.”

Renly sighed dramatically and stilled, not caring to face Loras’ wrath at present. “What you writing about?” he asked instead, leaning his head down against his pillow and trying to move as little as possible. 

“Just things.”

“Things?” Renly raised his head to look inquiringly at Loras. 

“Yes things” Loras frowned and pushed Renly’s head down back onto the pillow. “Like what I've been doing, what I'm going to do and so on.” He sighed and Renly knew he was rolling his eyes even if he couldn’t see. “If you really must know I'm currently telling her about the plans for your eighteenth name day”

Renly raised his eyebrows. Loras was not in the best of spirits today it seemed. Ser Balon Swann had passed through Storm’s End this morning and whilst Loras had eventually emerged the victor in the friendly sword match between them by a hair’s breadth, he had paled greatly in comparison to Ser Balon’s skill with a bow. It was an understatement to say that Loras had not taken well to hearing the words of praise most of the castle had bestowed on the young knight from Stonehelm after he had hit his target flawlessly time after time. 

“Is Margaery going to come to the tourney?” Renly asked after a time. Talk of Loras’ sister usually didn’t fail to cheer his squire up. 

“Maybe” Loras said shortly and Renly thought he could hear less sulkiness in his voice. “I hope so.” 

Renly wasn't at surprised that she might be in attendance. It was to be a big Tourney, with knights coming from all over the seven kingdoms, some even from beyond the neck. At least some of the Tyrells would travel up from Highgarden Renly thought, especially if they did what Loras had of yet failed to do and suspected that he would be knighted there. 

He bit back a sigh. He wasn’t sure quite how he felt about the prospect of meeting Margaery. He’d heard so much about her and from all Loras told her of him she sounded like a lovely girl. All the same, he couldn’t help but feel a slight pang of jealousy every time his squire spoke of her with such adoration in his voice. Loras might well have been the only person in his life that Renly cherished with such fervour, but the same sadly couldn’t be said of him when speaking of Loras. Renly knew all too well that he would likely always have to share Loras with his family. 

“Your sister must be near a young lady now.” Renly commented absent-mindedly. 

Loras glanced up. “I’m told that she flowered a few months ago now, so I guess she must be.” He paused, and Renly could almost hear him frowning. “It’s odd to think of Margaery as a lady.” 

“How so?” Renly nudged Loras off him and rolled over. 

Loras sighed. “I don’t know. I guess I just always assumed she’d be a little girl forever.” He laughed ruefully. “Before I came here we used to be inseparable you know. I used to sleep in her room most nights.” He bit down on his lower lip. “I guess that sort of thing would be out of the question now.”

Renly laid a hand on Loras’ arm, trying to be reassuring. “It’s not all that bad. You have my bed to share now.” 

Loras leant over to kiss him. “True.” He smiled and laid his cheek against Renly’s. “But even so I still miss it sometimes. And besides, you won’t be there on my visits to Highgarden.”

Renly laughed. “Loras…?” He paused, grinning. “Is it just me or do you seem to have a little bit of an aversion to sleeping in your own bed?”

Loras snorted and pulled his arm away roughly. “I do not.”

Renly laughed and pulled him back. “Tell me then Loras, when was the last time you slept in your own bed?” 

Loras thought for a moment, scowling. “About a fortnight ago.” He said shortly. “When you insisted we have a change of scenery.”

“And how long since you slept in your own bed by yourself.” Renly nudged him playfully, kissing him on the corner of his mouth. 

“A long time.” He admitted grudgingly. “Probably not since you were away in the Stormlands.”

Renly grinned. “Proving my point exactly.” He leant in to play with one of Loras’ curls. 

Loras scowled. “Just because I haven’t though doesn’t mean I can’t.” He pulled away roughly from Renly’s attempts to kiss him.

Renly laughed. “Go on then.” 

“Would you want me to?” Loras met his eyes, holding his gaze with such stubbornness that Renly couldn’t resist rising to it. 

Renly grinned. “Think of it as a challenge.” 

“Fine.” Loras rolled off the bed. “I’ll go now.” 

Renly couldn’t help but laugh as Loras stalked out, face set and determined as he all but slammed the door behind him. 

Renly shook his head, still chuckling as he rose from his bed to change into his nightclothes. Loras could be unbelievably easy to rile up sometimes, especially when he was already in a bit of a mood. 

He smiled as he tugged his breeches off. He himself usually escaped the full brunt Loras’ sulks; he was one of the few people within the walls of Storm’s End who knew how to calm him down, how to smooth his ruffled feathers until he was pliant as a lamb. It was Penrose usually who had to suffer through Loras’ tempers, the older man was beyond skilled at winding him up, and Renly guessed it was Penrose he had to thank in part for Loras’ rather sour mood today: his advisor had spent the greater part of dinner that evening bringing up quite how skilful Balon Swann had been with a bow until finally Loras had slammed down his spoon and announced he wasn’t hungry.

Renly grinned. He really shouldn’t have risen to the bait this evening and yet every now and then even he couldn’t resist teasing Loras a little bit. He’d most like pay for it in the morning but he imagined that by the afternoon it would be long forgotten, Loras more interested in the pleasure Renly could give him than in holding a grudge for something he wasn’t truly angry about. 

Still though, it was odd to climb into bed without him Renly thought. The bed seemed so much larger, and cold somehow without his squire’s presence. He’d grown used to the warm heat of Loras’ body and the comforting weight of him against him. 

As such, sleep didn’t come easily that night as it usually did, and after a few hours of restless tossing and turning, Renly started to regret teasing Loras. He wished rather that he’d gone after him and insisted he stay and wondered ruefully whether Loras was feeling quite as lonely as he was. 

He sighed, wrapping his arms tightly around one of his pillows and trying to pretend it was Loras. It was a poor substitute and yet it did the trick and eventually Renly fell into a deep sleep, the pillow still clutched tightly to him. 

It was just getting light when Renly awoke, the morning songs of the birds breaking through the silence and rousing him from his slumber.

He sleepily recalled going to bed alone and yet now he was dimly aware of a comfortable weight pressed against him and arms loosely wrapped around his chest. 

Smiling drowsily, he opened his eyes and pressed a kiss into Loras curls, nudging him gently. If truth be told, he was rather surprised to see him there. It was an unusual occurrence indeed when Loras went back on his word once he’d committed to something and Renly was beyond flattered to see him beside him. “What are you doing here?” he whispered in the younger boy’s ear. 

“Trying to sleep?” Loras muttered, burying his head in Renly’s neck and yawning. 

His curls were tickling Renly’s chin but Renly couldn’t bring himself to push him away. He lay his head on top of Loras’ and tugged him closer, wrapping his arms around his waist, pleasantly when he discovered that Loras was naked. “Sorry for waking you.” He murmured against his curls. “It’s just that I thought you were going to sleep in your own bed last night?” He tried to keep his voice mild but he couldn’t help laughing slightly.

Loras just snorted and didn’t deign to answer, instead trailing sleepy kisses across Renly’s collarbone as if that might distract him from his lack of response.

“Were you lonely?” Renly teased, slipping a hand under Loras’ chin and tilting it up so he could kiss him properly. “Did you need me to kiss away your nightmares?”

“No.” Loras insisted adamantly. He nudged Renly hard under the sheets. “It’s just that I thought it was a stupid idea.”

Renly laughed. “I’m pleasantly surprised.” He smiled against Loras’ lips. “You’re usually so stubborn.”

Loras rolled his eyes. “Drop it will you?” He rolled Renly over so he was lying on top of him. 

Renly smiled. He had no objection to indulging Loras here and was just about to suggest they do something else entirely other than discuss why Loras wasn’t in his own bed when there was a sharp tap on the door. 

Renly groaned inwardly. It should be against the law he thought for servants to disturb their lord at this hour. “You need to hide.” He whispered urgently to Loras. Whilst his squire being in his chambers in the morning wasn’t such a problem, Loras being rather under dressed certainly was. 

Loras scowled and just pulled the covers over his head. “Will this do?” 

Renly sighed. It was hardly the best they could have come up with but there was hardly enough time to stop and think of something better. Standing up, Renly ruffled the covers a bit and rearranged his pillows, trying to hide Loras’ outline. He supposed it wasn’t all too obvious, Loras was a slip of a thing after all. 

Even so, he opened the door quite cautiously, rather relieved when he saw it was only a serving girl who probably wouldn’t look too closely. 

She blushed as Renly asked her what she desired, most likely from the thrill of seeing her lord before he was properly dressed for the day Renly thought. 

“M’lord.” She bobbed into a curtsy. “A raven for you.”

Renly thanked her and took it from her hands. Usually he looked over all the ravens he received during his daily midmorning meetings with Penrose, and yet this was the second letter in a month that Maester Jurne had obviously deemed important enough to disturb him for. The first had been from Robert and Renly suspected this one would also be from him, most likely it would contain the finalised details for this damned tourney that would end by taking Loras away from him. 

He sank back onto the bed to read it, frowning as he found he recognised the handwriting all too well. It wasn’t Robert’s. 

Ripping it open, he began to read, his frown deepening as he read to the end. He’d thought he couldn’t look any less forward to this bloody tourney than he already did and yet it appeared he’d been wrong. 

“What’s the matter?” Loras leant over and tried to peer over his shoulder, impatience in his voice. “What does it say?” 

Renly groaned. “It appears we’re getting a visitor Loras.” He paused, biting back a sigh. 

“Well are you going to tell me who or not?” Loras raised an eyebrow and nudged him pointedly. 

Renly sighed. “Stannis.” He glanced back down at the letter. “He’s just written to inform me that he’ll be stopping here on his way back from Brightwater keep. We can then travel up to tourney together.”

“What’s he coming here for?” Loras lay back down against the pillows, tugging Renly down with him. 

“He didn’t say.” He frowned. “And I’ll be damned if I know. The inner workings of my brother have always been a mystery to me.” 

Loras shrugged, leaning down to nip at Renly’s neck. “Well from what I’ve heard, his sense of humour is unparalleled.” He smirked. “I’ll enjoy meeting him.” 

Renly sighed under his breath and tugged Loras closer. “I’m not so sure he’ll enjoy meeting you though.”


	41. Chapter 41

The days passed too quickly Renly found, the time slipping through his fingers like grains of sand regardless of how desperately he tried to cling onto it.

Before long, it seemed like his time left with Loras was almost over. 

The morning before Stannis was set to arrive was a bleak one. Dark clouds rolled in off the sea, bringing with them sweeping winds that made the very walls of the castle shake and rains so torrential that panes of glass shattered in their lattices. The thunder too echoed down the halls, an onslaught of noise and anger that Renly thought he could feel reverberate through his very bones. 

Renly was quite sure it was a sign, from the Gods, from fate, from someone somewhere. It seemed somehow too fitting to be a coincidence that the weather would be so as the castle steeled itself for the arrival of his brother. Grim preparations had been going on for days now, servants scuttling around hurrying to get everything ready in time. There was to be a great feast on the evening of Stannis’ arrival, a luxuriant, extravagant affair that Renly was quite sure his brother would loathe, but that he had organised for him nonetheless. 

Today however, Renly had insisted he would have no further hand in the preparations and despite protestations from various members of his household, he had put his foot down, laying down his authority and announcing that in spite of the weather and in spite of his brother’s impending arrival, he would be spending the day away from Storm’s End. 

He’d managed to wind himself up in knots over the whole thing and despite his best efforts, he couldn’t quite accept the fact that this would most likely be his last day with Loras before everything changed beyond hope of return. Stannis would be arriving on the morrow and two weeks after that they would all leave together for King’s Landing, from where he knew Loras was unlikely to ever come back to stay. 

As such, he had done what was quite unprecedented for him and ordered Loras to take the day off from training with no room for negotiation. His squire had seemed taken aback at the order but had been so disconcerted perhaps by quite how agitated Renly had become in the last few days that he hadn’t argued, agreeing to do whatever Renly wanted to without argument. 

Loras was worried about him Renly knew. His fretting and bad moods had not escaped his squire’s notice and even now, sat as they were side by side against that ancient oak in the clearing that Renly loved so much, Loras would shoot him concerned glances from time to time, laying his hand steadily on Renly’s arm as if to try and calm him.

As Renly had hoped, this place brought him some comfort. The clearing remained unchanged since the last time they had been here, and at a time where so much change was about to become inevitable, Renly found that a consolation indeed. 

The clearing remained beautiful in spite of the Storm, and Renly found some solace in watching the rain. His breathing came more steadily somehow as he watched the water collect in the delicate petals of the flowers scattered about them and run in great rivulets off the broad leaves in the canopy above their heads.

The oak tree provided them some shelter from the onslaught and yet still the water soaked into their clothes, sending chills down the back of their necks and shivers running down their spines. He knew Loras must think him mad for demanding they come out here in such weather and yet his squire said nothing, only sitting beside him and keeping his hand pressed against Renly’s arm until Renly found he had quite calmed down. 

“Are you truly alright?” Loras asked after a time, shifting closer to him for warmth and forcing Renly to look at him. 

Renly nodded, breathing deeply and letting Loras slip an arm around his waist. “I’m just irritated that Stannis will be arriving is all.”

He had told Loras little of his fears, preferring to fret silently rather than spoil these last few days they had together. Once Stannis arrived however, Renly knew he would have to change that. Loras would have to be told at some point that by the time the tourney was over, he would no longer be his squire, that he would be forced to return to Highgarden. Renly didn’t know how Loras would take the news, and part of him feared desperately that Loras would welcome the chance to return home. He tried constantly to tell himself that this fear was irrational, that everything Loras had said or done over their time together pointed to the fact that he adored Renly as much as he adored Loras, and yet the knowledge that Loras worshipped his family just as much as him was ever in the back of his mind, biting at him and clawing at his already pointless attempts to reassure himself. It was of no matter really what Loras wanted, there would be no question of him having to return to Highgarden after being knighted. 

“Are you really that torn up about him coming?” Loras asked, turning to face him and looking rather suspicious of Renly’s words. 

“Stannis and I don’t get on very well.” Renly sighed. It wasn’t a lie. He glanced around him at the rain that was still continuing to fall without showing any sign of stopping. “Maybe the road will get flooded and he won’t be able to come.” He added hopefully. Perhaps Stannis would be delayed and he would be able to buy a few more precious days alone with Loras. 

“Maybe?” Loras laughed. “Perhaps we should pray for Gods to make it so”

Renly smiled wryly. “I’ve never been one for getting on my knees and I’m not about to start now. The gods listen but rarely.”

“A pity.” Loras laughed under his breath. “I can think of all sorts of wonderful things you could achieve on your knees.” 

Renly raised an eyebrow. “Is that so Loras?” He grinned, feeling more like his usual self by the second as Loras japed with him. “I should imagine the Gods would be disgusted.”

“I would hope so.” Loras smirked and leant heavily against him. “It’d be a lot more fun than praying anyhow.” 

Renly smiled and pulled him closer. “Do you not respect the gods Loras?” he jested. 

Loras laughed. “Not overmuch. They’re not particularly good at giving me what I want you see.”

Renly grinned. “So tell me Loras. What is it that you’ve prayed for and not got?” 

“That would be telling.” Loras met his eyes briefly before leaning in for a tantalisingly brief kiss. 

“Please?” Renly asked, mouthing the word against Loras’ lips.

Loras rolled his eyes. “It’s really not that interesting, but if you insist.” He bit down on his lower lip in thought. “Let’s see... well when I was younger I prayed for all sorts of silly things. Like to beat Garlan at sword play, or for the Florent children to fall into a well and die and never to come visiting again.” 

“That’s not very nice.” Renly butted in, laughing and poking Loras hard in the ribs. 

Loras shrugged. “What? They were particularly unbearable. I dare say you’d have prayed for the same thing if it had been you that they inflicted their company on several times a year for the entirety of your childhood.”

It was Renly’s turn to shrug. Having grown up with a distinct lack of playmates, he thought that his younger self would have been in no position to turn away any other children, no matter how irritating they might be. 

Loras continued. “Later, I prayed to be sent to squire for a great warrior.” His grin widened and he nudged him playfully. “That definitely didn’t happen did it Renly?” 

“You insult me.” Renly chuckled and rolled his eyes. He supposed he couldn’t really argue with that. Indeed it was true that he’d much rather plan a feast than pick up a sword for any purpose aside from tourneys. 

“And as much as I’m ashamed to admit it, when I first arrived here, I asked the Gods to let me go home.” He frowned, his voice soft and Renly wondered for the hundredth time that week whether Loras would in fact desire still to go home after the tourney, even if the choice of returning here with him were an option. 

Loras sighed. “And more recently, I prayed that Willas’ leg might get better.” He laughed. “And even more recently, that you might kiss me, or at least notice that I wanted you to kiss me.”

“Well you got those last two” Renly interjected, grinning. “Perhaps the Gods do listen after all.”

Loras laughed. “Perhaps. But they sure took their bloody time about it.” 

Renly grinned sheepishly. “That they did.”

Loras smiled. “What about you?” 

“I haven’t prayed since I was very young.” Renly admitted. “Not since the siege probably, when Maester Cressen and I used to pray every night for it to end.”

Loras had stopped smiling. “Were you ever so frightened during the siege Renly?” He asked quietly, gazing up at him. 

Renly shrugged. “I’ve mostly forgotten now. But I guess I must have been.” He laughed. “Frightened enough by any means to apparently try to climb into bed with Stannis on more than one occasion.”

“Did he not let you?” Loras turned to face him. 

“I can’t remember to be honest. But doubt it.” Renly laughed. “Stannis has never been one for such things. He did used to come and sit with me sometimes though, when things were particularly awful, and when I was so terrified I couldn’t sleep. I remember that well, he would sit on a chair at the foot of my bed until I fell asleep.” 

Loras frowned. “Do you ever resent me for it? For the siege I mean?” 

Renly laughed. “Why in the seven hells would I resent you Loras? You'd have still been at your mother's teat during the siege of Storm’s End.”

Loras didn’t smile. “Yes, but it was my family who did it that to you. My father and my uncles, my cousins and my grandparents.”

Renly shrugged. “Robert pardoned them when he became king. I see no reason to hold a grudge.” He smiled.

Loras sighed against him and tipped his head back to kiss his neck. “I'm ever so glad you don't.”

“I’m glad I don’t too.” Renly smiled against his hair, sliding his arms around Loras’ waist and spinning him round to kiss him properly. 

Loras’ lips parted easily and he let himself be guided into Renly’s lap, wrapping his arms around Renly’s neck and kissing him back until both of them had forgotten how to breathe. 

“Take me home?” Loras asked breathlessly, his voice warm against Renly’s ear. “Please?” 

Renly didn’t need asking twice. If he hadn’t been worried that he’d hurt Loras due to the present lack of the small vial of oil that made everything easier, he would have taken him then and there against the wet grass.

Indeed by the time they got back to Storm’s End and up into Renly’s chambers, they were both so desperate for each other’s touch that they fell onto his bed in a tangle of limbs without even bothering to take their boots off, warm hands slipping beneath soaked-through clothes and knotting in wet hair. Clothes were dispensed of quickly and the thunder rolled on overhead as they rocked together, drowning out Loras’ desperate cries as he wrapped his legs tightly round Renly's waist, pulling and pushing against him until Renly's back ached and both of them were trembling.

“I love you Renly” Loras panted, rolling off him and stretching his cramped legs. “I really really do.”

Renly smiled breathlessly. “I suspect I love you more.”

Loras laughed. “Let's not get into this argument, I'm too tired for it and we both know neither of us will back down on the matter.” He pulled Renly back to him, pulling the covers up over them and pressing himself close as they lay together quietly, listening to each other’s breathing over the sound of the torrential rain outside.

Renly sighed against Loras’ cheek. It was still a fortnight before they would have to leave for Kings Landing and yet Renly was unsure as to whether this sort of thing could continue whilst his brother was here. If Loras were capable of being quiet then it would have been another matter, but as things were Renly didn’t know whether he could risk it. 

It was with a heavy heart thus that Renly leant his head against Loras’ and closed his eyes to go to sleep. The moment was perfect, Loras was perfect against him, and yet he couldn’t help but wonder rather sadly whether this would be the last time before Loras left for home that they made love in this bed.


	42. Chapter 42

Renly woke alone on the morning of Stannis’ arrival, a hurriedly scribbled note lying on the pillow next to him in place of his squire. 

Yawning, Renly rolled over to read it. Loras’ handwriting was unusually messy this morning he thought but the content was exactly what he would have expected. It seemed that Loras would be spending the entire day in the practice yard, making up apparently for the time that he’d lost gallivanting around the Storm Woods with Renly yesterday. He would see him at the feast though Loras assured him in an obviously hastily added post-script. 

Whilst Renly couldn’t say he was surprised, he was rather irritated. He’d been counting on sitting down with Loras this morning and discussing what would need to change between them for the duration of Stannis’ visit. As it happened though, the moment to have that conversation with Loras seemed to have passed him by. He was hopeful he still might be able to catch him before the feast, but even that seemed unlikely Renly thought. Loras was taking this tourney seriously; he would not come in from practice until he really had to. 

He dressed quickly. It was already midmorning and Renly knew well that his brother was not the sort to be late. Indeed Penrose was waiting for him in the hall, evidently anticipating Stannis’ arrival as well. 

“Are you here to give me moral support?” Renly jested, coming down the stairs to join him. “Knowing Stannis I’m probably going to need it.”

“I’ve no doubt that everything will be fine Renly.” Penrose smiled. “But I’ll accompany you to greet them if you so desire. I’m told that the party is but a mile from the gates now.” 

“That’s an offer I could never turn down.” Renly grinned and gestured for Penrose to follow him out of the large wooden doors. 

It was still raining rather heavily and yet Renly supposed it would be inexcusably rude of him not to meet his brother at the gates, especially if the only reason were that he didn’t want to get his clothes or hair wet. Dutifully thus, he stood at the inner gates, watching as the procession of horses slowly came over the hill and into view, a large wheelhouse that no doubt bore Selyse and her ladies following behind. 

“Is he bringing that daughter of his with him?” Renly asked, not recalling if Stannis had even mentioned Shireen in his letters. Penrose would know though, he always did it seemed, and it had been him that Renly had charged with overseeing the logistics of Stannis’ stay. 

Penrose shook his head. “I believe the child was left with her septa in Kings Landing. The journey would be too much for her apparently.”

Renly sighed. “Trust Stannis to produce nothing but sickly girls.” He was about to add more when he found he had to shut his mouth rather quickly; the party had ground to a halt and the man himself was approaching as Renly spoke, mounted on a large sorrel mare and at the head of the procession. 

“Renly.” He greeted tersely when he was close enough to speak, dismounting and sloshing his way rather grimly through the mud and rain until he’d reached them. 

He didn’t look particularly pleased to see him and Renly wondered again why he had come. It had been four years since he’d seen Stannis, since the tourney he’d held for his fourteenth name day in fact, the last name day that he had celebrated before Loras had arrived. The years had not been kind to him it seemed. Stannis had been balding even when Renly had last seen him and yet now he appeared to have lost even that little he’d had left. He seemed unchanged in essentials however, looking Renly up and down with severity in his gaze. 

Renly bit back a sigh. He didn’t know whether they should embrace, or shake hands, or whatever it was that brothers usually did when greeting each other. 

He settled for a smile, thinking that Stannis probably wouldn’t even notice how he greeted him. “Stannis.” He started. “You must be wet from the road brother. Would you like me to show you inside?”

“I’m sure I can remember the way” Stannis said, curt as usual. 

Renly sighed. He wondered whether Stannis was still bitter over the slight Robert had dealt him with all that business over Storm’s End and Dragonstone. It seemed not perhaps and Renly couldn’t help but fear that the fortnights of Stannis’ visit would be a very long fortnight indeed.

“How was your stay at Brightwater Keep?” Renly asked as they made their way up the waterlogged path, the wind tearing at their backs and the rain lashing at their faces.

“A waste of a lot of time which could have been used productively” Stannis said simply. “Unfortunately though, my wife’s family seemed intent on keeping Selyse away from Kings Landing for as long as possible.”

Renly laughed. “The Florents drove you crazy did they?” 

“They were tolerable.” Stannis shifted, grimacing and looking suddenly cautious. “Does that bastard child of Delena Florent’s still live here?” He asked stiffly after a long pause. “Robert’s one.”

Renly laughed. “Yes. Penrose has taken him under his wing.” He grinned. “But don't worry dear brother, he'll be sure to keep him out of your way. We know how his existence offends you.”

Stannis ground his teeth and Renly remembered suddenly quite how much fun there was to be had in winding Stannis up. Perhaps this fortnight wouldn’t be so bad at all. 

He laughed. “I suppose he must bring back bad memories for you.” He suggested mildly. “I mean people say you march to your marital bed reluctantly at best. I can't imagine how terrible it must have been to have to do so when our dear brother had already defiled the bed.” He grinned. “Pray tell me Stannis, as I’ve always wondered, did you and Selyse lie in the stains left by Robert and Delena when you claimed your wife or did you seek out another bed?”

Stannis pursed his lips. “Renly” he warned, his eyes severe.

Renly clapped him on the back and laughed. “Smile once in a while Stannis. I was pulling your leg.”

Stannis exhaled sharply but seemed to compose himself. “Does the boy have much of Robert in him?” He asked tightly. 

Renly grinned. “He certainly has Robert's look.” He laughed. “The servants often say he's a poorer copy of me” He sighed dramatically. “He has his mother's ears though. Such a shame.”

Stannis' jaw clenched but he let the slight to his wife's family slide. “You've indeed grown up to look remarkably like Robert.” He said dryly.

“I'm hoping you mean before he got fat?”

“Must you always refuse to take anything seriously Renly.” Stannis remarked, a muscle twitching in his jaw again.

Renly smiled wryly. “I suppose one out of us Baratheons needs at least some good humour.” He sighed. “Robert seems to have lost most of his these days.”

Stannis pursed his lips. “And at least one of us needs to do his duty and keep this realm together. For Gods be damned Robert isn't doing it.”

Renly sighed. “I did hear that the treasury is rather more empty than how the mad king left it.”

Stannis bristled. “I hardly thought the realm's financial woes were common knowledge. And I'll be damned if Robert told you.”

Renly laughed. “No my squire's a Tyrell. It seems the master of coin has been borrowing money from many a pocket these days.”

“It's not the Tyrells that concern me.” Stannis ground his teeth. “We owe the Reach pittance compared to the other debts that god forsaken Littlefinger has racked up.” He sighed. “We owe over two million to Tywin Lannister, not to mention what he has borrowed from the Iron bank of Braavos.”

Renly inhaled sharply. “That much?”

Stannis nodded curtly but said nothing.

They walked in silence for a while, climbing the steps up into Storm’s End with Penrose following behind them. “I visited Greenstone recently.” Renly commented, remembering what he’d hoped to ask his brothers. “Lord Estermont talked much of our mother.”

Stannis' jaw clenched visibly. “And what of our mother? I doubt very much that you have any memory of her.”

Renly shrugged. “What was she like?”

Stannis looked away, his face impassive. “Of what matter is it. There is little point in talking of the dead.”

Renly sighed and they walked the rest of the way to the castle in stony silence. He wasn’t surprised that Stannis had no inclination to talk about their parents. It was a sore subject for both of his brothers it seemed, and even Robert’s good humour would usually fade rather quickly when someone brought up their deaths. 

“There’s to be a feast tonight.” Renly informed him as they reached the entrance hall for lack of anything else to say. 

“That was hardly necessary.” Stannis frowned. “You needn’t have troubled yourself Renly.”

“Not necessary.” Renly agreed. “But you might even find it enjoyable.” 

Stannis gave a hint of a smile. “In which case we ought to wash off the dust from the road.” He glanced back out of the doors, seemingly looking for his wife. “You can greet Selyse at dinner.” He remarked. “No doubt she’s faffing around still in the wheelhouse.” 

Renly nodded, beckoning a few of his guard over and requesting that they escort the lady Selyse to her chambers.

Stannis had already swept off by the time he looked back around and so he and Penrose just shrugged, heading to the solar to discuss last minute arrangements for the feast. His bannermen would be arriving en masse within the next few hours and still Renly was unsure as to where he was going to seat them. There was easily enough space for all of them in the great hall of Storm’s End, but it would likely be near impossible to devise a seating plan which left none of the many families feeling hard done by. 

They had been hoping for some peace and quiet to work out such things but on entering they found the solar already occupied. Young Edric was sat at one of the many tables, having lessons with Maester Jurne, many books spread about them. 

“Speak of the devil.” Renly grinned. “Your uncle Stannis and I were just talking about you.”

Edric smiled, sitting up excitedly. “Can I go and greet him. I want to ask him how my father is!”

Renly grinned and turned to Edric. “That’s probably not the best of ideas.” He leant down to whisper conspiratorially in the child’s ear. “Between you and me, you and Uncle Stannis aren't on the best of terms”. He laughed and winked at the child.

Penrose and laughed whilst the boy looked more than a little confused. “We're not?” He asked “But I've never even spoken to Lord Stannis.”

Renly laughed easily. “Well Edric, let’s just say you bring back bad memories for him.” He paused, grinning, before adding “You know Ser Cortnay here might not be so fond of you either if you reminded him of the day he married Lady Selyse.”

Penrose shook his head in exasperation. “I’ll be sure to keep him out of sight Renly.” He too turned to Edric. “I and your uncle have important business to talk of Edric. Why don’t you run along and play now.” 

Edric pouted. “But there’s no one to play with.” 

Penrose sighed. “Why don’t you go and bother Loras. He’s in the yard. He might even give you a few more jousting lessons if you make sure to flatter him” 

Renly laughed and shook his head. “He won’t. Not now this tourney is fast approaching. I dare say Loras will feel he has no time to spare for such things.”

“True.” Penrose mused. “I dare say he only found the time before because you and most of the household were away.”

Renly shrugged. “Possibly. But he’ll let you watch is for sure.”

That seemed to placate Edric enough and he skipped off with the Maester at his heels. 

“Talking of Loras. Where do you want to seat him?” Penrose glanced down at the seating plan. “We’ve got Stannis and his escort to your right, and the Estermonts to your left already.”

Renly sighed. “Well I can’t bloody well seat a squire in their midst.” 

Penrose agreed. “Yes it would hardly be appropriate.” He studied the plan again. “Well where shall we put him then?” 

Renly thought. “We’ll have to put him with the other squires I guess. It’s where he’s supposed to sit anyhow.”

Penrose raised his eyebrows. “He’s not going to like that.” 

Renly laughed but privately he had to agree. Loras was very much not going to like being treated as the squire he was. He bit back a sigh. He couldn’t even remember the last time Loras hadn’t sat by his side at dinner.

A lot would have to change this fortnight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really odd question, but does anyone know how to put italics in for stories? I always have them on word and they disappear when I copy and paste it over. I can't seem to find a way to put them back in! 
> 
> Next chapter will be updated tomorrow. And will be a slightly longer one than usual :)


	43. Chapter 43

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I'm feeling in a generous mood tonight :) (and because I likely won't have internet tomorrow) Hope you like it!

Despite his earlier misgivings, Stannis appeared to be enjoying the feast well enough and Renly wondered not for the first time if Storm's End still felt like home to his older brother. He supposed it must have done. For he couldn’t imagine Stannis ever calling Dragonstone or Kings Landing home.

He’d hoped to find Loras before the feast started, desperate to pull him aside and have a few quick words with him before he chanced letting Stannis meet him. As it happened however, several of the starting courses had lapsed before Loras even turned up.

Renly sighed as he watched Loras slip in through the doors at the back of the hall, accompanied by many of the young knights who also were taking practising for the tourney very seriously. Most of them, Renly was sad to say, believed themselves to have a hope in hell of emerging the victor it seemed and as much as Renly would have liked to see a man of the Stormlands champion at the Tourney, any fool could have told them it would almost certainly be Jaime Lannister, or Gregor Clegane, maybe even Barristan Selmy if he rode particularly well. Still, Renly had to admire their determination, if not their grasp on reality.

He had hoped that Loras might follow the knights to their table, but alas that seemed wishful thinking, Loras was already making a beeline towards him.

Renly bit back a sigh as Loras reached him, and tried to keep his composure as Loras leant down to whisper his apologies for his lateness in Renly's ear. His curls were still slightly damp from having just washed them, and Renly felt a tingle of desire as they brushed softly against his cheek, cursing Loras slightly for not having the sense to keep a more socially acceptable distance between them.

“It's no matter” Renly waved his apologies aside “Come, let me introduce you to my brother Stannis” He had been dreading the two meeting for weeks and yet it couldn't be avoided now. It was best to get it over with he thought. He could only hope that Loras knew the meaning of discretion.

"Stannis, meet Loras, my current squire” Renly gave Loras what he hoped was a friendly smile before adding “A very talented squire at that.” A lump came to Renly's throat as those words escaped his lips, a reminder that Loras would soon be knighted, but the genuine smile Loras returned was worth it.

“You're too kind Renly” and Renly cursed Loras again for being brazen enough to address him as such before Stannis. No-one batted an eyelid nowadays at the lack of formality between the Lord of Storm's End and his squire, but Renly imagined Stannis would pick up on it as quickly as a hawk would spot its prey.

“Tyrell isn't it?” Stannis inquired curtly

“Yes my Lord” Loras said, in the least insolent tone he could manage, catching Renly's eye for a lot longer than necessary and sending shivers up Renly's spine.

Renly made himself break the gaze, forcing himself to think of the least arousing things possible as a precaution. The Small Council Business Stannis kept droning on about was a strong contender, or maybe the accounts of Storm's End. Glancing across the table though he found his prize, Selyse Florent, Stannis' lady wife. The sight of her was enough to curb any man's desire, even one with less controversial taste than Renly.

After a few polite exchanges, Loras turned back to Renly. “Where do you want me to sit?” He asked.

Renly forced himself to smile, keenly aware that Stannis was still watching them. “Why don’t you sit with Ser Guyard and the other knights over there?”

Loras looked a little put out at this but had the sense not to argue, merely frowning and taking his leave, his hand brushing ever so slightly against Renly’s back as he turned. Renly bit back a sigh. He had never noticed before quite how often he and Loras would touch each other in public. It would be little things, brushings of fingers, a hand rested on each other’s arms when they spoke, a casual playful nudge to the shoulder when one of them insulted the other. He supposed that would all have stop too now that Stannis was here.

Renly sighed and realised then that he’d been gazing inadvertently at Selyse’s moustache. He felt Stannis stiffen noticeably beside him, probably aware that the gaze was not favourable.

“So Renly, is he good then the Tyrell boy” Stannis inquired.

“What?” Renly spun round to face him. “Oh yes he's very good.” In more ways than one Renly couldn't help adding in his head. He sighed. “I expect I'll have to knight him in Kings Landing”

“Have to?” Stannis queried Renly's choice of words, his face impassive.

“Yes, it's always a shame when one loses a decent squire” Renly said. “You have to go all the way back to the beginning with another young boy who can't even pour wine without spilling it on the carpet” He tried to make it sound like he had vast experience with such things, hoping Stannis wouldn't point out that Renly could probably count the number of his squires he had ever had on one hand. He doubted Stannis bought it.

“Indeed” Stannis conceded curtly, turning his attention sharply to his wife Selyse who was prattling on about some new religious craze sweeping over from Essos. Renly bit back a laugh, the woman seemed as stupid as she was ugly with all this talk of red priestesses and fire gods.

Conversation was strained for the remainder of the feast, and Renly found himself looking forward to the dancing that would follow. As most of his bannermen had travelled up for the feast, there was an abundance of suitable partners this evening.

Indeed, he danced with a great many of his bannermen's daughters that night. He had been introduced to most of them earlier that year on his tour of Storm's End, and he racked his brain to remember all of their names, not wishing to slight any of them. The squires and young knights too seemed to be relishing the chance to twirl many of the eager young girls around the hall, complimenting them on their beauty and grace, stretching the truth in many cases Renly thought.

It made him smile though to eventually see Loras dance. Unsurprisingly, his squire moved with the same grace and elegance that he moved with in the saddle; his feet never seemed to get tangled up like some of the knights’ did and nor did he ever miss a step.

Renly was surprised however to see how indifferent Loras appeared to his partners. Evidently Loras would never have any true interest in any of the girls on his arm but he was usually better at feigning it. Indeed for a boy that Renly knew to be capable of being an outrageous flirt when he wanted to, Loras seemed rather sullen this evening, not even seeming to appreciate the girls’ lingering and adoring gazes as he usually did.

Renly bit back a sigh. He supposed Loras was still put-out from having to sit on one of the lower tables.

He tried to approach Renly after his third dance, making a beeline for him before Renly could be grabbed by yet another girl and trying to put a hand on his arm.

“Not now.” Renly insisted under his breath, smiling and taking the hand of a girl from Stonehelm.

She was particularly graceful Renly thought and he danced the next two dances with her before finding himself cornered by Red Ronnet and his sister, the poor girl again dressed up to the nines in the most obvious attempt Renly had seen to win his affections yet.

He asked her to dance eagerly though, thinking it the only way to escape the young griffin’s company without having to suffer through yet more conversation with him. The young knight was getting on his nerves already, having already made several jokes about his former betrothed that Renly found to be in very poor taste.

Indeed though, nobody had yet approached the Maid of Tarth to dance and Renly spotted her sitting on her father's left at the far end of the hall. Poor thing Renly thought, she looked particularly awkward tonight, even more so than she had at Evenfall. It was painful to see, the girl had obviously done her best to make herself look agreeable, her straw like hair had been curled and piled up on her head in a style that would look elegant on most women, but only served to make this one's masculine features and strong jawline all the more prominent. The rest wasn't much better, she'd been stuffed into some ill-fitting gown that Renly assumed was supposed to give her a woman's shape but instead made her look rather like how Renly imagined Gregor Clegane would look in a similar blue satin dress.

Feeling a sudden surge of pity, Renly approached her and extended his hand, inviting her to dance as he had done at Evenfall. Her features lit up instantly, and for a moment he was strangely reminded of the expression Loras' face often wore when he kissed him. The effect was fleeting, but for a few instants the maid of Tarth was the most attractive girl in the room, her blue eyes shining as if Renly had declared his love for her then and there.

He twirled her around the dance floor a few times, doing his best to return her smiles, thinking wryly how odd it was to have to look up at a girl. She’d been of a height with him when he’d first met her at Evenfall hall, and yet she seemed to have grown since then. She didn’t tower over him so to speak, but she was most definitely a good few inches taller than his six and a half feet.

After they retired from the dance floor Renly stood a while by the table with her, exchanging the usual pleasantries and asking after her family in Tarth.

Out of the corner of his eye though he caught a glimpse of Loras who, unlike the maid before him, had a rather sour expression on his face.  

He excused himself politely to the maid of Tarth and headed over to Loras, who was sitting by the door, arms crossed.

Reaching him, he pulled him outside, thinking he’d danced with enough girls now for him to be able to escape unnoticed for a few moments.

“Whatever is the matter Loras?” Renly laughed “I've never seen you look quite so bitter!” He sighed. “Is it because I made you sit with Ser Guyard?”

“It’s nothing” Loras said through gritted teeth.

Seeing that the corridor was empty, Renly risked pulling him closer, drawing him in for a kiss. Loras seemed to having any none of it though; he turned his face away bitterly to the side, giving Renly the cold shoulder.

Renly was not deterred, instead planting lots of small kisses on Loras' neck and cheek. “No you're upset about something” he mumbled against Loras' ear, playing with a lock of Loras' hair. “What's the matter?”

Loras' expression softened for a moment and he leant briefly into Renly's kisses, before seemingly remembering that he was angry and tensing up again, crossing his arms and pushing Renly away rather roughly.

“Don't play ignorant with me Renly” he hissed bitterly “It's obvious you don't desire my company”

“What?” Renly turned to face him properly. “Don't be ridiculous!”

“Why don't you just leave me alone and go back and dance with that laughing stock of a girl”

Renly couldn’t keep the surprise off his face, but in instant it was gone, and to Loras' evident horror, Renly began to laugh, his face incredulous.

“So that's what all this is about! You're jealous!”

“I am not!” Loras' face was indignant.

“You so are” Renly laughed “I've no idea why though. I've hardly given you reason to be”

Loras stood his ground, biting his bottom lip in a way that made Renly go weak at the knees “You've hardly noticed me this evening” he practically pouted.

“What do you expect me to do Loras?” He pulled him closer and this time Loras didn't resist quite so much “Would you have me kiss you at dinner? And twirl you around for a dance? I'm sure you'd look quite fetching in a dress but somehow I don't think it would be quite proper...”

Loras snorted and pushed him away again though Renly could tell his heart wasn't in it this time.

“Come on Loras” Renly implored, tucking a curl behind Loras' ear “Take that sour look off your face and stop sulking. I'd say in fact that it’s worryingly obvious that I have eyes only for you. It's been quite a chore having to ignore you this evening. You know...” He pulled Loras closer to whisper against his ear “I've had to resort to staring at my brother's wife just to get you out of my thoughts”

Loras laughed genuinely at this, and rested his head against Renly's shoulder, wrapping his arms around his waist. “Don't deny it though, you have been ignoring me more than usual.” his voice was softer now, the anger evaporated in a way that only Renly could have achieved.

Renly sighed, running his hands through his own hair wearily. “Surely you realise that we have to be more careful now that my brother is staying” This is the conversation he’d hoped to have this morning with Loras and yet here they were having it in a corridor now.

Loras didn't answer, he just leaned more heavily against Renly, seemingly content for the moment.

“I'll tell you what Loras” Renly continued. “Let's agree on some rules so that you know where you stand this week, and don't go all stroppy on me again”

“By agree on some rules, you mean you decide on rules and I follow them right?” Loras didn't look overly impressed.

“Well yes” Renly shrugged and grinned sheepishly.

“Fine.” Loras stated shortly “Try me.”

“Alright then. Well the first rule...” Renly paused, thinking intently. “The first rule is no catching my eye when Stannis is around”

Loras raised an eyebrow, but seemed to think this fair enough.

“Second rule, no brushing your hand against mine, or any of the surreptitious touching you like to do for that matter.”

Loras smirked, but nodded “Does it get you all hot and bothered?” He asked, moving his hands down to Renly’s hips.

Renly rolled his eyes and ignored him. “Third rule. You have to address me properly.”

“But Renly-” Loras began to protest before Renly cut him short.

“No buts Loras. Stannis will not think it appropriate that you don’t refer to me more formally.”

“Fine, _My Lord_ ” Loras retorted, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

Renly turned to go back to the feast, his absence would have already been noted. Reaching the door though he turned. He had of course forgotten the most important necessary change to their relationship that he’d needed to tell Loras that morning. “Oh one last thing Loras”

“Bloody hell, how many god damn rules do you have?”

“I want you back in your own room tonight. And you're to stay there until Stannis is gone”

To his surprise, Loras didn't protest indignantly at this one, he merely leant back against the wall, an eyebrow raised and a smile playing at his lips.

“I give you two days Renly, two days before you're begging me to leave my room” And with that, he turned on his heel and walked down the corridor, leaving Renly standing speechless at the door.


	44. Chapter 44

Loras was surprisingly good at sticking to Renly's rules. _Too good_ Renly thought miserably. He was all politeness, following behind Renly like the ever dutiful squire, not speaking until he was spoken to and responding with more propriety and humility than Renly had ever thought Loras capable of. It was all _yes my lord_ and _as you wish my lord_ or _my lord knows best_. Loras never dropped the act for even a moment.

And Renly hated it. He thought if Loras spoke to him in that overly polite and detached tone one more time, he would hit him, just to get some sort of reaction out of him, that didn't finish with my lord.

Most of Renly’s household seemed terribly confused at the sudden change in Loras. More than once Maester Jurne had approached Renly to ask if Loras wasn’t feeling very well, and Penrose had even had the cheek to ask if the two of them had fallen out over something.

Stannis seemed thoroughly impressed though, revoking his earlier impression of Loras and commenting that the boy certainly seemed to know his duty.

Renly had grimaced and agreed. Loras always seemed to manage to manipulate him so that he had the upper hand and this was no different. He couldn't chastise Loras for his behaviour, it was what he'd asked him to do. It was his own bloody rules that Renly was suffering for. And Renly refused to admit that Loras was getting to him.

Loras had been right though. Within two days every fibre of Renly's being was aching for some intimacy, craving Loras' touch. Loras had obeyed even Renly's last rule flawlessly, disappearing to his chambers after finishing his squiring duties for the evening and only reappearing at breakfast the next day. If he truly did have an aversion to sleeping alone, he surely did not show it.

It took three days for Renly to cave in, three days of being driven half mad with frustration. He sought Loras out that very afternoon, running into him in the corridor as he and Stannis were returning from the solar.

He glanced in front of him. He reckoned Stannis was a decent enough distance in front of him to risk briefly having a surreptitious word with Loras. Desperately, he motioned for Loras to catch up with him, and dutifully Loras moved to his side as any squire might. Glancing again at Stannis' back, Renly leant over slightly to whisper in Loras' ear.

“Come to my room this evening Loras? While Stannis is still at dinner?”

Loras' face was impassive, but he inclined his head slightly to indicate that he'd heard and understood before turning on his heel and going back the way he’d come.

Renly let out a sigh of relief, quickening his pace to catch up with Stannis. He had been worried that Loras would refuse, if only to get the better of him and prove a point.

Renly excused himself early from dinner that evening, blaming a sudden headache. Whilst he doubted Stannis or anyone else for that matter would disturb him while he felt sick, he did have to wave away poor Maester Jurne’s concerns rather hurriedly before the old man could get up to tend to him.

He sighed when he reached his room, collapsing down on the bed and drawing his covers up around him. He reckoned that he'd bought a few hours at least, more than enough time to ease his frustration and still be able to lie a little with Loras afterwards. He thought perhaps that he missed those moments most, when both he and Loras could do nothing but lean heavily into each other’s embraces, thoroughly worn out and yet still hesitant to part.

As much as he craved Loras though, he would certainly not risk letting him stay the night. He bit back a sigh. He would have to stand his ground firmly on that matter Renly thought; Loras would no doubt try all the tricks in the book to convince him otherwise and he had to admit that Loras was very good at getting his own way when he wanted to.

He was just pondering how he would be able to convince Loras that he couldn’t stay when there was a soft knock at the door. Evidently Loras had managed to slip out of the dinner after him.

Renly leapt to his feet and opened the door, more than eager to see him. Sure enough, Loras was standing outside his chambers, looking as beautiful as ever, curls falling across his forehead and over his eyes. Renly took a deep breath. He wanted to take him there and then, to hold him in his arms and kiss every part of him until he had no breath left.

“Loras” Renly sighed, moving to him, “I'm so glad you're here.”

“As you requested my lord” he replied, his face blank and entirely unreadable.

“You can drop the bloody act now Loras” Renly almost growled “It's alright, we're alone.”

“What act my lord?” Loras replied innocently, and Renly groaned inwardly. _So this was the game was it? Well two could play at that game_. He knew Loras too well. His young squire would cave to his desires eventually. As much as he didn’t show it, Renly knew that Loras would be craving this as much as he was.

“Come in then,” He said amiably, playing along. “I need some help removing my clothes”

“As you wish my lord” He followed Renly dutifully into his room, and began to undress him. He was quick about it, fingers touching Renly's bare skin for as little time as was necessary. All the same, Renly relished the fleeting feel of Loras' cool fingers against his warm skin as he removed the garments as requested. He stopped however when Renly was in nothing more than his small-clothes, and looked at Renly expectantly as if waiting for further instruction.

“Carry on” he commanded.

“As you wish my lord” With that Loras set about removing the remainder of Renly's clothes, and Renly noted that he took care not to touch his bare skin this time, only the silk of the garments.

“Is that all my lord?” he asked when he was done, his face still betraying no emotion.

Renly gaped at him. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. He suddenly felt rather foolish and overexposed, standing there as bare as the day he was born in front of a fully clothed Loras, and he grabbed at a sheet to cover himself.

He thought he saw the hint of a smirk on Loras' face then, but as quickly as it had come it was gone, his face resuming that impassive expression that made Renly want to hit him, or fuck him, or something.

“Loras, this is ridiculous!” Renly couldn't help but blurt out. “You have to stop this, I can't take this any longer.” Renly's voice was imploring, a definite note of desperation in it.

“Say please?”

Renly gulped and swallowed his pride, at least what little of it there was left.

“Please?”

“Fine then” Loras said, resuming his normal tone at last to Renly's relief. “My room, midnight.”

With that, Loras strode out of the room, leaving Renly standing naked in his room, a sheet wrapped round him to protect his modesty but his pride lying in pieces on the floor. Loras didn't even bother to hide the smirk this time, and Renly knew his squire had won.

 

………………..

It was quite a bit after midnight when Renly eventually made his way to Loras' room. He'd waited until he was quite sure the castle was silent and all the servants gone to bed before he crept out of his room and along the corridor to Loras' chambers. It wasn't all that far, and it would be relatively easy to get between the two rooms unseen if it weren't for the fact that one couldn't avoid the main staircase.

For once though the stairs were deserted, and Renly let out a sigh of relief when he finally reached Loras' door. He wondered whether he should knock, but decided against it, noticing that Loras had left it slightly ajar, presumably with him in mind.

He pushed it open as quietly as possible and entered the room. Loras was sitting cross-legged on his bed, only half dressed. Renly was pleased to see that he was smiling, the first genuine smile he'd seen on Loras for days.

“I thought you weren’t going to come.” Loras jested, grinning.

“I admit I had half a mind not to after your behaviour this evening” Renly teased. He had indeed contemplated not turning up but his desire had got the better of him.

Loras merely laughed easily at this, leaning back against the pillows, curls falling lazily over his eyes. Renly sighed softly. He was quite irresistible was Loras. And he’d missed him more than he’d thought possible.

Their eyes locked for a brief moment before Renly pulled him to him, not even trying to be gentle for once as he tugged Loras roughly on top of him, their legs intertwined as Renly kissed him with a desperation that surprised even himself.

Loras responded with similar ferocity, grabbing Renly's shirt roughly and grappling with the buttons before giving up and ripping it off instead, throwing the tatters off the bed carelessly. Renly couldn't help but laugh even as the fine fabric lay in ruins on the floor. This was the impatient Loras he knew and loved. Smiling, he pulled Loras to him again and resumed kissing him, long deep kisses that made Loras melt against his chest and practically beg for more, moaning softly against Renly's ear as Renly tilted his head back to kiss his neck and collarbone.

“You know I was just playing with you earlier don’t you?” Loras managed to get out between kisses, arching his back and pushing Renly’s hands down towards his hips.

“I know Loras” Renly breathed, gazing into those golden eyes he loved so much before he leant in for another kiss, feeling Loras surrender himself even further to Renly's touch. “All the same it was more than I could bear.”

Loras smiled against his lips and merely allowed Renly to push him gently back against the pillows and pull his legs apart, thinly veiled desire on his face.

“This way round?” Loras breathed.

Renly paused, his hands already on the laces of Loras’ breeches. They hadn’t tried it the other way round since that first time on Loras’ name day, and whilst he was eager to give that another go, that wasn’t the sort of pleasure he had in mind quite at this moment. It would however solve the problem of Loras being unable to be quiet which perhaps ought to be his top priority.

He glanced down at Loras. “Is that what you want?” he asked hesitantly, pulling the laces out of Loras’ breeches all the same.

“It’s up to you.” Loras breathed, his eyes dark with desire.

Renly frowned, leaning down to kiss him. “It’s not what I would choose right now, but you’d be able to be quiet like that wouldn’t you?”

Loras sighed. “You really want it the usual way round don’t you?” He pushed his breeches the rest of the way down and started on his small-clothes. “In which case I promise I’ll be quiet.”

Renly laughed despairingly. “But you promise you’ll try every time we do this, and yet each and every time I end up having to virtually suffocate you with that pillow.”

“I’ll try harder.” Loras insisted. “Seeing as it actually matters right now.”

Renly grinned and turned his attention to removing the rest of his own clothes. By the time he glanced up again Loras was already readying himself, his head tilted back and his eyes closed as he stretched himself wide, a sure sign that Loras was getting very impatient.

Renly smiled and sat back on his heels to enjoy the view. With Loras sitting up like this he couldn’t actually see much, but the expressions on his squire’s face were enough to set his pulse racing, his breath quickening as Loras added yet another finger.

“Ready?” He breathed impatiently, reaching out to cup Loras' cheek. 

His heart leapt when Loras nodded and tugged him down on top of him. “Go on then.” He laughed. “Before you fall to pieces with desire.”

Renly didn’t need telling twice. At Loras’ words, he drew Loras closer, pulling his legs up over his shoulders as he pushed into him, his hands clutching Loras’ hips desperately and not even finding it in him to care overmuch when Loras cried out irregardless of his earlier words.

He paused when he was completely in though, fighting to bring his desire under control. As much as he didn’t care now, he knew the consequences of Loras failing to keep the noise down would come back to bite him later. As such, he reached over for one of Loras’ pillows, handing it to him with a smile.

Loras pushed it away. “I’ll be fine.” He sighed. “Let me put my legs back down?”

Renly cocked his head but did as he was told. He didn’t really understand why Loras thought this would make any difference except in making it slightly more awkward but he knew better than to argue. The pillow was in reach; like it or not he could use it to try and shut Loras up again when he needed it.

“And try to push into me downwards?” Loras instructed breathlessly. “Like you’re aiming for the bed.”

“Is that going to help?” He panted, moving as Loras had instructed. “I thought you liked it when I sort of angled upwards?”

“I do like it that way.” Loras rolled his eyes. “Which is why I’m telling you not to do it.”

“Why would you want th-”

“You want me to be quiet don’t you?” Loras scrunched his eyes up. “Well here you go. I’m being quiet.”

Indeed, aside from breathing very heavily Loras was as quiet as a lamb as Renly thrust into him time and time again, his arms wrapped tightly around Renly’s neck.

“So you mean to tell me?” Renly panted. “That all this time you’ve been _trying to be quiet,_ all I needed to do was this? And that you knew that all along?”

Loras grinned sheepishly. “To be fair I only worked it out a few weeks ago. But essentially yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Renly breathed in between kisses, not really finding it in him to be angry. “It’s an easy enough change to make.”

Loras laughed. “Because it’s dull like this?”

“Dull?!” Renly pushed against him harder to try and make him take that back.

“Comparatively.” Loras sighed and shut his eyes. And indeed whilst his squire looked like he was enjoying it, those desperate gasps, the expressions of ecstasy, the incoherent cries that Loras usually made, all those were distinctly missing. Renly felt torn. He’d been seeking for weeks now for ways to make Loras quieten down and yet now that Loras had showed him it was possible, he found he quite missed it.

He was quite glad thus when nearing his finish, Loras gripped his hand suddenly and opened his eyes. “Go back to how you usually do it for just a while?” Loras panted, reaching over and clutching the pillow to him.

Renly obliged and sure enough within a few moments Loras was gasping as he usually did, crying out inarticulately against the pillow as he buried his face in it. It was enough almost immediately to send Renly over the edge, his seed spilling deep inside him and his hands tightening on Loras’ hips.

“So do you not enjoy it like that?” Renly asked quietly when they were both done.

“I didn’t say I didn’t enjoy it.” Loras whispered, tucking himself under Renly’s arm. “Just that I don’t enjoy it as much.” He sighed. “But with your brother here, that seems a sacrifice I’ll have to make for a while.”

Renly grinned. “We can try swapping round again next time if you prefer. I didn’t have a problem with being quiet.”

Loras laughed under his breath. “Next time?” he whispered. “I thought I was distinctly confined to my own bed?”

Renly glanced around. “Looks to me like you’re in your own bed?”

Loras smiled and pulled Renly closer, tangling their legs up once more. Renly knew all too well that he ought to be returning to his own chambers now and yet neither he nor Loras said a word as he settled down beside him. Both of them knew there would be no question now of Renly not staying until morning.


	45. Chapter 45

Renly awoke still entwined with Loras, the younger boy pressed against his chest with his head buried in Renly's shoulder. He looked to all the world as if he were asleep but Renly suspected he was most likely awake and merely content to lie there quietly in Renly's arms like he often did in the mornings.

He nudged him gently, and sleepily pressed a kiss to his curls. Loras was indeed awake as Renly had thought, for he lifted his head up to kiss Renly properly, wrapping his arms around Renly’s neck and pressing himself against him.

Renly smiled, reaching down to brush the tangled curls out of Loras’ face. He knew he ought to regret his rash decision to stay the night in Loras’ bed, but he found that quite now he honestly couldn’t bring himself to care in the slightest.

They lay facing each other quietly for a few moments and Renly was just about to lean in for another lazy kiss when Loras smirked, rolling Renly over and draping himself across his chest.

“I told you that you’d struggle to keep away from me for long.” He said, a small smile playing still at the corners of his mouth.

Renly groaned and pressed a hand sleepily over Loras’ mouth, pulling him back off him and tucking him under his arm as if that might keep him quiet.

Loras didn’t seem deterred. “So what was that last rule of yours?” he continued, grin widening as he moved to lie atop Renly again. “Remind me.”

Renly rolled his eyes. “I’ve broken none of my rules. This is your bed, not mine.”

“A technicality.” Loras insisted. “The spirit of that rule was that we keep our hands off each other until we leave with Stannis for Kings Landing.”

“If you insist.” Renly yawned, wrapping his arms around him. “If so then it was a rule well worth breaking. I’ve missed you terribly.”

Loras’ expression softened then and he sighed against Renly’s chest. “I’ve missed you too.” He breathed. “And as much as I loathe to admit it, I sleep much less well when you’re not here.”

Renly chuckled and kissed his forehead. “Clingy little thing aren’t you?”

Loras snorted. “It’s not me who was practically begging last night.”

Renly laughed. “That’s only because you’re too stubborn to admit that you wanted me just as much as I wanted you.”

Loras raised an eyebrow. “Or maybe it’s because I have enough dignity not to beg.”

Renly grinned. “You? Dignity?” He laughed. “I’ve seen you in great many undignified positions. Pray tell me Loras, what exactly was dignified about the manner in which I fucked you last night?”

Renly’s smile only widened as Loras defended himself vehemently, narrowing his eyes and trying to escape Renly’s grasp. His efforts were futile, for Renly just held him tighter and laughed. He still held by what he had said. He’d seen Loras on his knees, pinned face down against the bed, bent over tables, all sorts of undignified positions really. And as much as Loras would deny it, Renly had most certainly heard Loras beg. He smiled as he thought back to those rare occasions when he’d tease his squire so shamelessly that Loras would all but plead for Renly to stop toying with him and give him what he needed.

Eventually Loras managed to disentangle himself from Renly’s grip and sit up. “I haven’t the time to argue with you.” He muttered, running a hand through his curls and rolling his eyes.

“What time even is it?” Renly laughed, rolling over away from Loras and yawning loudly.

“Hmmm maybe mid-morning? Nearing noon perhaps.” Loras said, diving under the covers in a yet fruitless search for his smallclothes.

Renly groaned. He’d known it was later than he usually rose, but he hadn’t imagined it to be quite that late. By now he would have been missed at breakfast, and that would lead to all sorts of awkward questions. He sighed. Perhaps he could pretend he still felt unwell.

“How did we manage to sleep till this hour?” Renly asked. He was fond of sleep but even he couldn’t remember the last time he had awoken quite this late.

“Well...” Loras said, draping himself back over Renly and wrapping his arms around his neck “I think it might have something to do with the fact that it was nearly light by the time you finished fucking me. But perhaps that's just a coincidence.”

Renly pushed him off him, shaking his head fondly. “Very funny Loras, now if you don't mind, I'm going to get dressed and get back to my chambers”

“Ah yes about that...” Loras had the decency to look at least slightly guilty as he gestured to the tattered shirt that he had ripped off Renly’s shoulders the night before.

Renly put his head in his hands and sighed. He would be lying if he said he hadn’t enjoyed Loras' roughness greatly, but he'd known even at the time that come morning he'd most likely regret Loras tearing his shirt down the seams instead of having the patience to undo the buttons like a normal person would.

“This wouldn’t have happened had you been nicer yesterday.” Renly commented, examining the torn pieces of his shirt. It was definitely beyond repair.

Loras shrugged. “This wouldn’t have happened had you not insisted on following those pointless rules of yours.”

Renly laughed. “Yes but you didn’t have to be so cruel about it yesterday.”

Loras raised an eyebrow. “It didn’t have to be this way. I removed your clothes very nicely for you after dinner. I even folded them. It’s not my fault you didn’t play along.”

“Play along?” Renly rolled his eyes. “And by that you mean that I should have ordered you to sleep with me?”

Loras shrugged. “That was the idea yes.”

Renly paused. “But I just felt so silly when I was standing there naked and you weren’t. It was humiliating.”

Loras laughed. “Well that’s your own fault. You could have just asked me to take my own clothes off.”

“Well I never thought of that.” Renly admitted.

“Evidently.” Loras remarked dryly. “Well maybe it will occur to you next time.” He smiled then and stood up, pulling on his smallclothes. “You want me to fetch you some clothes from your room?”

Renly nodded absent-mindedly, his mind still on what Loras had said about there being a next time though. He sighed. If he was entirely honest with himself then he knew that his shouldn’t really happen again. Not whilst Stannis was here by any means. He couldn’t find it in him however to insist once more on a rule that they both knew they would no doubt break.

……………..

It was a good thing too that Renly had chosen not to insist again on them following his last rule, for he would have been forced to break time and time again as the week progressed. Loras seemed intent to drive him mad with desire and almost every night Loras would sneak quietly into Renly’s room and they would make love with silent touches and hushed whispers.

Loras seemed to have had his fun now though and whilst he still played the ever dutiful squire in Stannis’ presence, he eased off the act when the lord of Dragonstone wasn’t around for which Renly was half grateful and half disappointed. Part of him indeed had been looking forward to second chance at playing the game he’d failed to play properly the first time around.

He was very much glad however that Stannis’ visit was coming slowly to an end. Whilst he’d had quite a lot of fun winding him up, often he was pleased to say, with Penrose’s help, he could safely say he was looking forward to when they would all depart for Kings Landing and Renly would be able to escape his company once more.

He’d run out of things so thoroughly of things to talk about with his older brother that by the time they were midway through the second week of Stannis’ stay, he again brought up the subject of their parents, hoping Stannis might take a little more interest this time around.

“Why don’t we go down to the sept and look at the crypts.” He suggested amiably as they were sat in the solar, Stannis hunched over a pile of papers that had come for him from Kings Landing.

“You know as well as I do that those crypts are empty.” Stannis remarked dryly, barely glancing up from his work.

Renly shrugged. “True.” He grinned widely, mainly just to irritate Stannis as much as possible. “I just thought it would be a nice thing to do together is all dear brother.” He clapped Stannis on the shoulder in the way he knew he hated. “Maester Cressen used to tell me ever so often that we younger siblings ought to try and bond.”

Stannis clenched his teeth. “Not now Renly.” He turned back to the papers on the table. “Perhaps I shall find time later. As you can see some of us have work to do.”

Renly rolled his eyes. “Fine. I’ll go by myself then.”

He stood and strolled out without a backwards glance, smirking to himself as he heard Stannis huffing from his desk behind him as he no doubt complained that his youngest brother had no patience. Renly grinned. Stannis was far too easy to wind up for his own good.

Loras caught up with him several paces outside the door. “I’ll come with you if you like.”

Renly laughed. “I don’t actually have any real desire to go. Stannis is right. Those crypts are empty and a waste of space really.”

Loras shrugged. “It gives us an excuse to get away from Stannis though.” He laughed and looking around furtively reached out to tug on Renly’s arm.

Renly shrugged too, risking a brief kiss in the corridor seeing as the solar door was firmly closed. He let Loras lean against him for a few brief moments before he turned to lead them out into grounds and the winding path that would lead them to the sept.

The sept was empty as it usually was when they entered and Renly amused himself briefly by having a passing glance at the crypts inside. They were elaborately decorated and yet Renly found he had to agree with Stannis for once. There was very little of any interest there, only empty tombs with names engraved in gold to mark the parents that were supposed to be buried within.

After a few minutes of aimless wandering, he was completely ready to suggest that they leave the sept and find something more interesting to do.

It appeared however that Loras had other ideas and Renly’s breath hitched as Loras slammed him against the wall, strong hands pinning him there as he licked a hot wet stripe down Renly’s neck and nipped at the soft skin below his collar.

Renly sighed and leant back heavily against the altar as Loras wasted no time in slipping a hand down into his breeches, wrapping a hand roughly around him and making Renly see stars behind his eyes.

Before he could even try to collect his thoughts, Loras had sunk to his knees.

“What are you doing?” Renly hissed.

Loras smirked up at him. “Praying.”

Renly laughed breathlessly even as Loras unlaced his breeches and took him into his mouth, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes as Loras got to work. This was something Loras was particularly good at; it seemed his squire had a wicked tongue in all walks of life; and Renly found himself soon having to grip the altar tightly to stop himself melting from sheer pleasure.

Indeed he had to try to remember how to breathe as Loras took him even further, his mouth deliciously warm and wet around him.

He was already close by the time Loras pulled away and got to his feet, and he gasped for air as Lora slipped his hands instead around Renly’s waist and leant in to kiss him, smirking ever so slightly against Renly’s mouth.

Renly grinned and wrapped his own arms around Loras’ hips, lifting him up and pushing him up roughly against the altar, not even breaking the kiss as Loras wrapped his legs around Renly’s waist.

It was easy to hold him there and Renly found himself pushing Loras further and further back against the altar as he trailed kisses down Loras’ neck, tracing the line of his collarbone with his mouth and feeling him hard against his stomach.

He knew they ought to probably stop there and yet Renly found something inexplicably arousing about the idea of bending Loras over and fucking him as roughly as possible in the very sight of the gods. As such, he leant forward, pinning Loras in place with his weight and leaving a hand free to slip in between their taught bodies and pull out the laces of Loras’ breeches.

The sound of the door clicking open made him almost drop him and Renly’s racing heart all but froze in his chest as he spun desperately around only for his eyes to meet across the sept with a pair very similar to Renly’s own.

Loras moved like an arrow loosed from a crossbow, dropping to his feet within an instant and turning too to face Stannis, standing half in front of Renly as if that could protect him from his brother’s steely gaze.

Renly gulped as he tried to read his brother’s face. As usual it was rather grim, but Renly thought he could see traces of disgust there too. He couldn’t say he was surprised. Stannis had never been fond of him, but he had no doubt also never expected to walk in on his youngest brother engaged in such moral degradation.

Renly grimaced and turned his face away, wincing even as Stannis turned his harsh gaze on Loras, looking him up and down with utter disgust on his face. If he had not already witnessed enough to leave no room for doubt, Renly supposed that Loras’ flushed cheeks and disarrayed clothing would have also been sufficient to tell Stannis all he needed to know.

He took a deep breath and glanced furtively sideways at Loras. He was not surprised to see equal disdain on his squire’s face, and he had to admire Loras’ nerve as he stared coolly back at Stannis, his eyes narrowed and his hand instinctively moving to his belt even though he wore no sword there.

“I..” Renly stuttered, moving to step in front of Loras. “I can explain.”

Stannis merely gritted his teeth and spun around. “Not a word Renly.” He warned through clenched teeth as he stalked out.


	46. Chapter 46

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the ridiculously long wait. Been having a bit (a lot...) of trouble with the internet over here unfortunately.

The walk back from the sept was a dismal one, Renly able to focus on nothing save the expression of disgust on his brother’s face and Loras still fuming over Stannis’ refusal to even hear Renly out.

It was in vain that Renly tried to calm him down and it wasn’t until late that afternoon that Renly even managed to talk Loras out of following Stannis and confronting him. Even so it was with unconcealed anger that Loras paced moodily about Renly’s chambers, fury in his eyes and muttering all the foul words he could think to call Stannis under his breath.

Renly merely sighed as Loras paced, head in his hands and the disdain on Stannis’ face lingering in his mind, coming back to haunt him whenever he closed his eyes. He tried to tell himself it was done now and yet he couldn’t help running through all the ways in which such an incident could have been avoided. He bit back a sigh. If only he hadn’t tried to convince Stannis to go the sept today, or if he hadn’t made that offhand remark about Stannis’ refusal to spend time with him, or if Loras was capable of keeping his goddamn hands to himself for ten minutes at a time.

“Calm down.” He insisted softly as Loras seethed silently by the window.

“ _Calm down?_ ” Loras’ eyes narrowed. “You think this is me angry?” He laughed bitterly. “I’ll show you angry. Who does he think he is? Not even thinking to visit for over half a decade and then having the cheek to look at you like that and not even listen?”

Renly sighed. “Look I’ll talk to him.”

“No you bloody well won’t.” Loras’ eyes flashed dangerously. “Why should you have to explain yourself? To him of all people? Tell me that?”

Renly laughed ruefully. “I just do. My brother found me in a sept with you wrapped around me. Some things just need to be explained.”

“And so what?” He turned on Renly now. “Is it that you’re asham-“

“Don’t try it.” Renly almost snapped. “I’ve got enough on my plate as it is without you accusing me of being ashamed of you.”

He sighed, turning his face away in shame. He hadn’t meant to snap at Loras, not truly. Things were going badly enough today without turning Loras against him too.

He felt Loras sink down next to him though and when he glanced up, he was surprised to see that Loras looked almost guilty.

“Let him judge silently from his moral high ground.” He said unusually softly, wrapping his arms around Renly’s chest. “Don’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you trying to justify what he saw.”

Renly sighed and pulled him closer. “Do you ever wish Loras that we could just take off and leave? Leave Storm’s End behind us? Buy a house in Pentos, or Volantis, somewhere where I can love you and nobody would give a second thought to it?”

Loras let out a deep sigh. “You don’t mean that Renly. You’ve got so much here. Storm’s End, people that love you.” He gave a hint of a smile and gestured to the back wall of Renly’s chambers. “And a wardrobe full to bursting of very nice clothes.” He laughed weakly. “You wouldn’t want to give all that up for the sake of a few fools here and there who think what we do is wrong.”

“I could have nice clothes in Pentos?” Renly said hopefully before sighing. “You’re right though. I’d never do it. It’s just a nice thing to think about is all.” He stood up. “In which case I ought to speak with my brother.”

Loras’ eyes narrowed once more but he didn’t argue. “I’ll be here.” He said stiffly. “And if you want me to knock some sense into that so-called brother of yours, just come and get me.”

Renly laughed weakly and went to the door, determined to keep his resolve. His knees were shaking however by the time he even reached the end of the corridor and began his search for his brother.

It took him longer than he’d anticipated. Stannis wasn’t in the solar, nor was he with Selyse and her ladies having dinner. It was with much reluctance then that he dragged himself up the steps and brought himself to knock on the door of Stannis’ chambers.

He heard a muttered come in and so hesitantly pushed the door open, taking a deep breath and steeling himself. He wouldn’t feel particularly comfortable visiting Stannis in his chambers even without such an incident hanging in between them.

Stannis was sat at his desk, papers around him in piles that looked distinctly less organised than usual. It was off being in here Renly thought. It was the room Stannis had had growing up and although they were few and far between, vestiges of that childhood still remained if you looked closely. A small toy boat for instance stood in the corner, an empty cage that might have once housed a hawk standing beside it, both covered in dust and most likely not touched in decades. Renly suppressed a small smile as he thought wryly of the stern faced man he knew playing as any other child might.

“Stannis.” He started, trying to keep his voice even.

“Renly.” He returned tersely. He fixed Renly coldly with his steely blue eyes.

Renly shifted awkwardly from foot to foot. “Can we talk about this?”

Stannis’ jaw clenched and he looked about to refuse. Renly held his breath as he watched the cogs turn in Stannis mind, and sighed audibly when after a few moments of evident thought Stannis inclined his head stiffly to one of the chairs.

Renly took a seat wordlessly, folding his hands on his lap and trying to gather what he was going to say, “Stannis.” He sighed eventually. “I’m sorry you had to see that. I never meant for you to.”

Stannis merely frowned, the lines at the corners of his mouth deepening.

Renly sighed. “Well are you going to say anything or just sit and stare at me?”

A muscle twitched in Stannis’ jaw. “You won’t do it again.” He clenched his teeth. “It’s disgusting behaviour.” His lips tightened. “It’s perverse, degenerate, disgusting behaviour.”

Renly laughed nervously. “It’s surely no worse than what Robert does with his whores.”

A vein in Stannis’ forehead bulged. “And that makes it somehow acceptable?”

Renly shrugged. “What I do doesn’t harm anyone.”

“Is the boy your wife?” Stannis asked dryly.

Renly resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Evidently not.” He replied tersely.

“Can he ever be your wife?”

Renly did roll his eyes this time. “No.” He sighed.

“Then there is no reason to touch him so.” Stannis remarked tightly, disgust written all over his face. “The boy is your squire. Your duty is to ensure he is knighted, not to molest him in the sept.”

“But-” Renly tried to protest.

Stannis ground his teeth. “No buts. You will not touch the boy again and I will hear no more of it.” He turned his face away grimly and Renly got to his feet sighing. He had no desire to argue a pointless case further.

……..

He and Stannis barely spoke for the next few days. Breakfasts were eaten in silence, lunches taken wordlessly. Even dinner was a tense affair, spent avoiding each other’s gaze whilst Stannis glared at his plate and Renly pointedly spoke exuberantly to everyone else around him.

Loras proved as unforgiving as Renly had expected him to be. His bad mood faded as his excitement for the upcoming tourney grew but often Renly would catch him glaring at Stannis, his face set and his fists clenched as if he desired nothing more to punch Renly’s older brother in the face.

Renly had mixed feelings as their departure for Kings Landing fast approached. As much as he was eager to leave Stannis and the tense silences behind him, the prospect of Loras leaving him wasn’t much more appealing.

Renly put off speaking to Loras more seriously about what would come once they reached Kings Landing for as long as possible. He’d had his fair share of awkward conversations this week he thought, and he doubted whether the one he had to have with Loras would be any more pleasant.

By the end of the week however Renly could put it off no longer. Loras had retired to his chambers that evening to pack for the upcoming trip and as much as he’d rather bury his head in the sand and ignore it, practical issues had to be thought of. Loras would not be returning to Storm’s End; it made sense that his things were taken to Kings Landing.

The door to Loras' room was open when Renly finally plucked up the courage and Renly could see him sat on the floor, chucking stuff into a trunk carelessly with his back to him.

Renly stood there a moment, feeling rather helpless in the door way as he watched his squire deliberating over which clothes he would take. As much as Loras was currently unaware of it, this would be the last time that this room would be Loras'. The thought made a lump come to his throat.

“Loras” Renly called quietly, and Loras spun round to face him, smiling. He was obviously in a good mood, excitement for the upcoming trip had been running high in Storm's End for the past few days, and Loras was no exception.

“Don't judge me on how untidy my packing is” he jested.” I figured what my mother never sees won’t hurt her!”

“About the packing Loras...” Renly, paused, searching for the right words. It could be perhaps that this conversation was going to be even more difficult to get through that the tense one he had endured with his brother earlier that week.

“What? You're not going to insist that I refold everything are you?”

Renly laughed despite the sinking feeling in his stomach. “No Loras, I wanted to talk to you before we leave tomorrow” Ignoring the confusion on Loras' face, he entered the room and sat down on one of the chairs. Usually he would have sat on the bed or even on the floor next to him, but today he was here to talk about Loras’ future, or lack of a future perhaps, at Storm’s End. With such a serious subject to broach he felt more like Loras’ liege lord than he had done in a long time.

They sat in silence for a while, Renly trying to think of the best way to broach the subject. Loras sat almost at his feet, looking more curious than anything else. Renly supposed he couldn’t blame him. He was very rarely at a loss for words.

“Loras,” Renly finally begun. “You know don't you that once we go to King's Landing, you won’t be coming back here?” He forced himself to meet Loras' eyes.

Loras stared at him. “What do you mean? I won’t be coming back here?”

Renly sighed “What I mean to say Loras is that I'll be knighting you in King's Landing.”

Loras raised an eyebrow. That revelation seemed to not surprise him. “So?” There was fire behind Loras' eyes.

“Well, once you're knighted, you won’t be my squire anymore.” He gestured to Loras' packing on the floor “It might do better to pack all of your things Loras. That way you can go straight down the Rose Road rather than detouring all the way back here.”

“And what makes you think I'll go back to Highgarden when you've knighted me?”

Renly sighed. He’d anticipated this sort of argument, that Loras would be incapable of understanding that him staying at Storm’s End would be near impossible once he was knighted. “Your family will expect it Loras. There is no way your father will agree to you staying here.” Indeed Renly knew that Mace Tyrell would never consent to see his youngest son a landed knight away from Highgarden, not when he was determined to have another Leo Longthorn.

 “Well I'll have to set them straight then won't I?” Loras' face was set, and his arms crossed.

“Look Loras,” He put his hands on Loras' shoulders and tried to make him see sense, “I would give anything for you to be able to stay, and preferably never leave, but it's simply not possible. I have nothing to offer you here. The best I could give you is a place in my personal guard even if your father did consent to it, but you can't do that forever, you won’t want to do that forever.”

“How do you know what I want?”

Renly laughed ruefully “Everyone knows what you want. You seek glory Loras. You won’t get glory if you stay here. You should be out winning Tourneys, and defending helpless maidens from the evils of the world.”

Loras had to smile at this. “I guess you're right” he sighed, looking rather sadly at Renly. “You know me too well.” They sat again in silence for a few minutes, neither seemingly knowing what to say.

“Better get packing then.” Renly kissed Loras' curls and stood up to leave, biting back a sigh. He'd known for a long time that this day would come, and yet nothing had prepared him for quite how desolate he'd feel when it finally came.

He did his own packing miserably, rifling through his wardrobe reluctantly for once as he selected his favourite garments to tale to Kings Landing.

It didn’t take him long. The visit would not be a particularly lengthy one and almost everything he could desire would be all but served on a plate to him once they reached Kings Landing, him being the king’s brother as he was.

He supposed then to get an early night and had just lay down to think about going to sleep when Loras appeared at the door, surprisingly bright eyed and with his hands suspiciously behind his back.

“What are you doing?” Loras asked. “Surely you’re not thinking about going to bed now?”

“It’s a long day tomorrow” Renly said defensively, drawing the covers around him for comfort.

“But today is the last evening you claim that I’ll be around.” He held up a large flagon of wine. “So I suggest we see it out properly.”

Renly laughed despite himself and sat up. He had to admit, there seemed no real point moping on Loras’ last night. Wine on the other hand was a suddenly very appealing prospect and he took the flagon Loras offered him gladly.

“We don’t have any glasses.” Renly commented as he propped himself up with his pillows.

Loras shrugged. “We can just drink out of the flagon.” He laughed. “As you so nicely pointed out the other day, it wouldn’t be the most undignified thing we’ve ever done.”

Renly grinned and took a sip from the flagon. “Likely it won’t even be the most undignified thing we do this evening.”

Loras didn’t answer, merely laughed and came to sit beside him, taking a long drink from the flagon in Renly’s hands as he did so. He screwed his face up slightly afterwards, and Renly couldn’t help but laugh. Loras wasn’t one for drinking wine, he never had been. He didn’t enjoy the taste overmuch (although Renly was sure that that would change as he got older) and nor could he hold his liquor like Renly could.

“Be careful there.” Renly laughed. “You’re going to end up very drunk very quickly if you carry on drinking like that.”

“That was the point?” Loras raised an eyebrow as he passed the flagon back to Renly.

Later, Renly supposed that it was a good thing that getting well and truly into his cups had been Loras’ intention for the night. His squire had barely drunk half of what Renly had and yet Renly didn’t think he’d ever seen Loras so well and truly out of it. By midnight he could barely sit up straight and everything Renly said seemed to be somehow hilarious to him.

He was in good spirits though, and he laughed once more as he tried to move to sit on Renly’s lap. He completely missed his target though and went sprawling across the bed, almost falling off.

“I really want you.” Loras slurred, trying to pull his breeches off, but seeming confused by the laces. He lifted his head up slightly, laughing. “But I’m not sure if I can...” He waved his hand in front of his face. “No coordination you see.”

Renly reached out for him. “Come here.” He laughed. His own head was swimming rather a lot by this point but compared to Loras he reckoned he was stone cold sober. Renly grinned as he helped him get his breeches past his knees, adding them carelessly to the pile of clothes Renly had already taken off.

The shirt seemed as much of a challenge as the breeches had been. Loras managed to get his elbow stuck somehow in the collar. Renly grinned, reaching for the flagon to take another drink. He thought he might enjoy the unusual sight of Loras making a fool of himself for a little longer before helping him.

It seemed he waited too long however. By the time he had placed the flagon back on the bedside table Loras had managed to roll off the bed and was now lying on the floor, reaching up helplessly for Renly to drag him back up.

Renly chuckled and leant down to pull him up. “You’re hopeless you know?”

Loras smiled, swaying slightly in his arms. “But gorgeous too right?”

“Definitely gorgeous.” Renly pulled him to him to kiss him. “In fact… too gorgeous for me to resist.”

Loras crawled once more into his lap, kneeling up and putting his arms round Renly’s neck to stop himself toppling over. “Take me then” He laughed and pressed a kiss to Renly’s ear. “I’m all yours.”

Renly grinned and, holding him up, leant towards him to kiss him. It was difficult work though Renly found, what with Loras being entirely reliant on Renly supporting him. Despite Loras having made it completely clear what he desired from Renly that evening, Renly had to wonder whether he could give it to him; he couldn’t help but fear Loras would pass out midway through.

“I’m useless aren’t I?” Loras asked as Renly had to push him upright once more in between kisses.

“Not useless at all” Renly told him laughing. “Though I think this might have to wait until you’ve sobered up a bit.”

“I love you Renly” Loras panted, ignoring most of what Renly had just said. “Have I ever told you that?”

“Many times.” Renly laughed against his ear. “You’re just too drunk to remember.”

Loras laughed. “I’m going to miss you so much.” His breath hitched and he wasn’t laughing anymore. “So so much.”

“Me too” Renly held him close, taking his hands and kissing his palms.

“I don’t know if I can do this Renly?”

“Do what?” Renly breathed.

“Leave here? I don’t think I can. I don’t want to”

“I can’t do anything about that Loras.” Renly sighed. “Your family will have it no other way.”

“Don’t make me?” There was a fear in Loras’ eyes that didn’t belong there and it tugged at Renly’s heartstrings. "I always wanted to be a knight and I still do, but more than anything I want to stay here, with you.”

“Shhh.” Renly pulled him to his chest and stroked his hair. “It’s going to be fine. We’ll be fine. We can go to tourneys together and I’ll find some reason to come and see Highgarden, and you can come back visit whenever you like.” He tried to sound more confident than he felt.

“But it won’t be the same.” Loras clutched Renly to him and Renly was surprised to feel hot tears against his skin. He lifted Loras off him and lay them both down, pulling the covers up over them and holding Loras to him.

He didn’t mention the tears. He’d seen Loras cry only once and Loras had been but ten. He was fourteen now and his pride fragile. As such he merely stroked his hair softly and let Loras muffle his sobs in his chest until he was asleep. He’d likely not remember this in the morning Renly thought and Renly would certainly not humiliate him by enlightening him.


	47. Chapter 47

It was raining when the party set out for Kings Landing the following morning; black clouds obscured the sky and a cold wind swept in off the bay, chilling them to the bone despite the mild summer air. It suited the occasion perfectly Renly thought bitterly as he helped his very worse-for-wear squire up onto his horse.

Renly sighed and mounted his own horse, pushing his wet hair out of his eyes and urging the horse forward towards Loras who had turned a rather unsettling shade of green. Indeed Loras had most definitely seen better days Renly thought; he looked like he’d rather be anywhere else but in the saddle and he was swaying slightly as the horse walked on. As Renly had expected though, he remembered little of the night before. That was perhaps for the best Renly thought.

Renly could only be glad that Stannis had chosen to accompany Lady Selyse in the wheelhouse rather than ride alongside them. Renly suppressed a wry laugh. Evidently his company was still too offensive for his elder brother to bear. He had no complaints though. He had been all too relieved when Stannis had wordlessly climbed up into the wheelhouse that morning and not invited him. He could imagine nothing worse than enduring Stannis' company for such an extended period of time when relations between them were so strained, except perhaps enduring his wife's.

Excitement was running high though among the rest of the party in spite of the dismal weather. They were all used to it Renly supposed. Living in Storm's End you couldn't afford to let a bit of rain dampen your spirits; you’d spend your life miserable. As it was, almost the entirety of his household were travelling up with him to either compete in or watch the tourney, and were all laughing and chatting as they made their way up out through the gates.

Renly sighed, wishing he was also in high spirits. He brought his horse in line with Loras' and touched his shoulder gently.

“You alright?” he asked.

“Yeah” he sighed, looking distinctly not alright.

“You going to miss it?” Renly gestured back to Storm's End, several miles behind them now.

“Of course” He looked wistful for a moment, before regaining his composure. “I can come back to visit though right?”

Renly pretended to contemplate the question. “Hmmm, I'm not sure, we’ll have to see.” he said, trying to keep a straight face.

“The others take you.” Loras rolled his eyes and shoved Renly hard in the saddle before he seemingly remembered that moving hurt his head. “Don't joke”

Renly laughed, regaining his balance easily. “Of course you can come back to visit Loras, I promise you, I'll always have a room made up for you.”

Loras raised an eyebrow. “Why would I need a room?” He asked, dropping his voice to barely a whisper.

Renly shook his head, laughing “Alright fine.” He conceded. He too hushed his voice. “You'll always be welcome in my room. That better?”

Loras smiled weakly. “Much better.”

It was an uneventful day and Renly was feeling slightly more cheerful by the time night had fallen and they stopped for the night. The inn Penrose had found was a ramshackle place, with poor rooms and even poorer food that most of them spat out when the landlady wasn’t looking. All the same though, Renly was glad to be off the road and out of the rain. He even found himself looking forward to the upcoming tourney despite the fact that Loras and he would part when it was over. Somehow the situation seemed less dire now that he knew he and Loras were on the same page at least in regards to wanting nothing to change. Whilst this made the changes no less inevitable, it certainly brought Renly some comfort.

The room he was assigned was dusty and dingy, with cobwebs in the corners and moth holes in the sheets but Renly had never been planning on staying in it long. He waited until he’d heard the last member of his household traipsing up the stairs and then stealthily made his way across the corridor to the room Loras had been given.

Loras’ room was equally dingy and Renly found himself squinting in the dim candlelight as he entered. He wasn’t surprised to see Loras already in bed, curled up under the covers and with a pillow over his head.

He sat down next to him gently, trying not to jog the bed too much.

“Still feeling unwell?” He asked, prying the pillow out from underneath Loras’ arms and reaching down to stroke his hair.

Loras nodded gingerly and Renly couldn’t help but chuckle under his breath. Loras was evidently feeling more than a little sorry for himself. All the same, he pulled the scratchy sheets back and slipped in beside him. It was a bed evidently designed for no more than one person though and Renly found it a bit of a squeeze as he shifted to put his arms around Loras.

“Would you like me to kiss it better?” He teased.

Loras narrowed his eyes and shook his head, wincing seconds later from the pain that evidently caused him.

Renly smiled and tugged him closer. “I’m sorry you’re not feeling very well.” He sighed softly. “I’d let you sleep but I needed to talk to you about Kings Landing. I know we’ll only be there for a few weeks, but it’s going to be very different from Storm’s End.”

Loras nodded and buried his head in Renly’s shoulder. “I’ve never been.”

Renly laughed under his breath. “You haven’t missed much. Court can be cruel there, it’s full of ruthless high climbers who’ll smile to your face and then stab you in the back when you’re not looking, people who would like nothing better than to use what the two of us do together against us.”

“I know that.” Loras breathed. “Does this mean a return to your set of rules?”

He sounded so miserable that Renly shook his head. “I’m not going to be so foolish as to try and enforce those again. But we do need to be discrete. They say even the walls have ears in the capital, and everywhere Varys’ little birds are listening.”

Loras nodded, sleepy now. “Alright.” He sighed, nestling further into Renly’s chest. “I can handle discretion.”

Renly smiled and kissed his forehead gently. He’d planned on going back to his own room; the bed was far too small to comfortably fit both of them; and yet Loras seemed to have other ideas. He refused to let go of him even when Renly tried to prise his fingers apart.

Renly just shrugged and settled down happily. He supposed there were worse things than sharing a bed that was too small in the dingiest inn in the Stormlands.

……..

Despite the small bed and scratchy sheets, Renly found he slept as well as he always did. All the same though, he was relieved when they finally reached King's Landing. The Red Keep would be warm and brightly lit, the sheets silken and soft, fit for lords and ladies rather than peasants. The rest of the journey had been tiring and he looked forward to getting comfortable in rooms specially prepared for him and washing off all of the dirt from the road. He suspected though that he would be required to pay his respects to Robert first.

Several of the Kingsguard met them just outside the walls and whilst Renly was glad to see Barristan Selmy, he was not so pleased to see Jaime Lannister or Meryn Trant.

Still, he greeted all three warmly and expressed his gratitude to them for escorting him and his company into the city.

As Renly had expected, he and Stannis were conducted straight to Robert, while his company was left to unload. Entering the hall, Renly was pleased to see however that Robert's Queen was nowhere to be seen, presumably having retired to her chambers for the night. That was a small blessing Renly thought. He couldn’t be bothered with making small talk with Cersei Lannister so late in the evening.

Robert was sitting in a chair by the window, evidently awaiting them for he stood up when they approached.

“RENLY!” he boomed, embracing Renly roughly. “How have you fared with this old git?” He gestured wildly in Stannis’ direction, wine sloshing out of his cup and onto the floor.

Stannis tensed visibly and Renly laughed nervously. “Not so bad.” He managed weakly, wondering whether Robert would even notice that things were strained between him and Stannis even by their standards.

“Good, good.” Robert said, clapping Renly heartily on the shoulder before turning to his squire and yelling for more wine. The poor boy visibly flinched, before running off for the wine as quickly as his gangly limbs would carry him.

“THAT'S RIGHT, YOU RUN BOY” he boomed after him, before turning back to Renly. “They gave me a bloody Lannister, a LANNISTER I tell you!”

Renly just laughed and nodded. He had assumed the boy was a Lannister. With his blonde hair and green eyes, he looked so much like what Renly imagined a younger Jaime Lannister would have looked like, it was impossible not to guess what family the boy belonged to.

The boy returned shortly with more wine, which he sat upon the table before Robert.

“Come Renly, Stannis, drink a while with me!” He thrust a glass into Renly's hand and beckoned Stannis over. “Let's see you handle your liquor like real Baratheons eh?” He clapped Renly on the shoulder again, so hard this time that Renly was sure his knees would have buckled if he'd been a smaller man.

“I'd have loved to Robert” he laughed “But it’s been a long journey, and there'll be plenty of time for you to drink me under the table after the tourney.”

Robert guffawed and bade the servants show his boring sport of a brother to his rooms. Renly chuckled and exited the room, leaving Robert to his wine and Stannis to his attempts to discuss small council business with him.

Renly was to have rooms in the red keep for the duration of his stay alongside Stannis and other members of the small council, whilst most of his company, Loras included, would be setting up tents on the Tourney ground itself. Renly caught them in the entrance of the Red Keep, most moaning about the prospect of having to set up camp in both the mud and the dark and not for the first time he was grateful that he was able to stay inside in the warm and the dry. Only Penrose, as his second in command and advisor, would also get such a privilege.

It was difficult to find Loras among so many people but eventually Renly spotted him next to Narbert Grandison, the two boys evidently arguing as they usually did. This time, it seemed that the two were supposed to be setting up tents next to each other. Neither seemed pleased, and Narbert was complaining loudly to the master at arms, pointing angrily at the scar Loras had once given him in the training yard.

Renly smiled and merely pulled Loras to one side and out of the argument.  
“Stay with me tonight?” He asked under his breath. “I can't bear the thought of you out tonight in the cold and wet, especially if you’ll have to be next to that foolish boy there.”

Loras smiled “You sure?” He whispered. “If I remember correctly you kept emphasising how much more careful we'd need to be in King's Landing.”

“Well...” Renly had indeed expressed these exact sentiments upon but a day ago and yet he found that he didn't particularly care right now. He was tired and didn't want to be alone. He grabbed Loras' arm and guided him up the stairs to his newly assigned chambers, giving Loras no choice in the matter. Loras laughed and allowed himself to be pulled up the stairs.

Reaching his chambers, they both kicked off their boots and collapsed straight onto the bed, exhausted.

“Come lie with me?” Renly asked, pulling Loras towards him. Loras simply nodded, burying his head in Renly's shoulder and putting his arms around him, hugging him tightly. Renly sighed into his curls, he could stay like this forever he thought and never want to move. He pulled Loras closer, hoping that Loras realised quite how much he meant to him, and quite how much he would miss him when he went back to Highgarden.

Loras leant heavily against him, kissing Renly's neck gently and running his hands through Renly's hair, pulling out the tangles from the road.

“This is the third time in a row that we've just lain together like this and gone to sleep.” he murmured softly against Renly's ear. “Perhaps we’re getting old and boring.”

Renly pressed a hand against the small of his back. “You want more?”

Loras evidently contemplated the idea but after a few moments he shook his head. “We should be discrete this first night. And anyway, I’m exhausted.” He sighed. “I hardly slept at all last night. My own silly fault of course. I should have let you go back to your room when you tried to.”

Renly frowned. “I slept fine?”

Loras rolled his eyes. “Well of course _you_ did. A war could be going on outside and you’d sleep fine.” He narrowed his eyes accusingly at Renly. “I, on the other hand, well I lost count of the amount of times I ended up on the floor because you refused to stick on your side of the bed.”

Renly grinned sheepishly. “It’s hardly my fault. It’s not like I forced you out of bed on purpose.”

Loras gave a hint of a smile. “Make it up to me?”

“I thought you said you didn’t want anything tonight?”

Loras sighed dramatically. “Why is it that when I ask for something, you always assume I’m asking you to fuck me?”

Renly grinned. “Many many times of being proved right?”

Loras prodded him in the ribs. “Well this time I’m not asking for that.”

Renly sighed. “Go on then. What is it you want from me?”

“I want you to come back with me to Highgarden when this tourney is over. Just for a little while.”

Renly contemplated that. He’d intended on leaving the capital as soon as possible but he supposed there was nothing stopping him delaying his return to Storm’s End for a few weeks. “Any particular reason?” He asked.

Loras shrugged. “Because I want to delay parting from you as long as possible?” He paused. “And because I want my siblings to meet you.”

“Will they not be here for the tourney?” Renly asked. He knew Lord and Lady Tyrell were to be in attendance, and he’d assumed that they would bring all of their children.

Loras shook his head. “Garlan’s coming with my parents, but Margaery stayed behind with Willas. It’s Margaery who I want you to meet.”

Renly bit down on his lower lip. He still wasn’t quite sure how he felt about meeting Loras’ sister. The prospect seemed mildly terrifying somehow. “What if she doesn’t like me?” He whispered.

“She will.” Loras said shortly.

“But what if she doesn’t?” Renly asked. “Would you think less of me?”

Loras laughed and smirked. “Most definitely.”

“And that’s supposed to reassure me?”

Loras grinned. “Stop fretting. She’ll like you.”

Renly rolled his eyes and ruffled Loras’ curls in the way he knew he hated before he leant over to blow out the candle. He knew it was silly to worry so over what Loras’ sister might or might not think of him, yet all the same he couldn’t stop imagining a faceless girl with long brown curls grimacing at him, pointing at him and whispering secretly about him in Loras’ ear. He closed his eyes, trying to shake the image from his mind. There was no point worrying about it. Margaery would either like him or she wouldn’t, and as much as Loras jested, he liked to think Loras wouldn’t seriously think less of him if his sister took a dislike to him.

He bit back a sigh and turned back to Loras. Pulling the covers up over both of them, he tucked them around Loras' shoulders and settled back down against Loras for the night.


	48. Chapter 48

For the first time in a long time Renly woke before Loras that morning. It was quite a pleasant change Renly thought as he opened his eyes sleepily to see Loras still curled up again him, his breathing soft and steady.

Renly sighed contentedly. It was sorely tempting to lie here and do nothing save stare at Loras’ sleeping form all day, but as the tourney was to be held in his honour, he supposed it just might be considered a little rude if he didn’t turn up.

Bracing himself for leaving the warmth of his bed, Renly dragged himself out of bed and dressed leisurely, choosing a navy doublet that brought out the blue of his eyes. He glanced over to Loras' sleeping form as he pinned a stag brooch to his collar. It was best to let him sleep a little longer he thought, especially seeing that Loras blamed him for getting no sleep the night before.

As such, he exited the room alone, hopeful he might find a servant that would be able to bring him breakfast. Usually this would be a job for a lord's squire, but seeing as his squire was currently asleep in his own bed, he saw no alternative but to find one himself.

He didn’t find a servant, but he did bump straight into Penrose who looked rather flustered.

“What's wrong Penrose?” Renly laughed. It was only early into their stay in the capital and it looked like something had already gone wrong.

“The men out on the Tourney field are fussing.” Penrose stated wearily “Apparently they are one short. Your squire was supposed to be camping next to Grandison and Morrigen and yet no-one’s seen him all morning.”

Renly couldn’t help but look rather sheepish. He hadn't considered that Loras would be missed and that people would worry. Thinking about it now however, he supposed that it had been a rather poor oversight on his part.

Penrose raised an eyebrow at Renly's expression and sighed.

“I'll tell the men not to worry then shall I?” he laughed “I admit that I thought as much.”

Renly was taken aback. “What's that supposed to mean?” He asked indignantly.

Penrose laughed, shaking his head in fond exasperation “As if I didn't know that Loras hasn't slept in his own bed for at least the past year...”

Renly tried to protest at this but only a sort of strangled sound came out, Penrose merely smiling at how flustered he was becoming.

“Save your lies for the court Renly, you're going to need them.” And with that he turned on his heel and swept down the corridor, his cloak swishing behind him as he no doubt headed back to the tourney ground.

Renly sighed as he watched him leave. First Stannis and now Penrose it seemed. He wondered whether he should feel worried at Penrose' revelation. He supposed not, he had no reason to doubt Penrose's loyalty. All the same, it made him more than a little uncomfortable. It seemed he and Loras weren’t as discrete as he’d assumed they were.

He found a serving girl at the end of the corridor though and soon enough he was returning to his rooms with a heavily laden tray.

Loras was still asleep when he entered, and Renly couldn't help but laugh at the way his curls were sticking up all over the place. He sat himself down on the bed next to him and shook him awake gently.

Loras looked up at him sleepily. “Is it already morning?”

“Yes” Renly nodded, thrusting the tray of food at him “Eat”

“You know I'm still your squire for at least a little while longer.” Loras laughed “You don't need to wait on me quite yet.”

“I thought I'd let you sleep, you do look ever so sweet when you're sleeping.” Renly grinned. “It's very deceptive in fact!”

Loras shoved him playfully at these words, but allowed Renly to run his hands through his hair and untangle the curls, leaning against him heavily.

“So where have you been this morning?” Loras asked after a time, fiddling absent-mindedly with Renly’s brooch.

Renly grimaced and told him about his encounter with Penrose.

Loras raised an eyebrow. “You seriously thought Penrose didn’t know?” He sighed. “I always thought he must have had at least some idea what was going on.”

Renly shrugged. “Well it certainly seems so.”

Loras just laughed and Renly leant down to kiss him, set on savouring their last few moments of peace before they would be swept up in the noise and excitement of the tourney.

…………..

The city was busy as they rode over. The small folk of the capital had turned out in force to celebrate his name day, and the streets were a sea of colour. Young boys waved home-made banners emblazoned with the sigil of their favourite knight and the maids all had flowers and ribbons in their hair. Prostitutes too weaved through the crowd, clad in silks and with their hair pinned up in exotic styles.Renly imagined those who owned brothels would have a field day this coming week, what with the inpouring of lords and knights from all corners of the kingdom, all with money to spend in their pockets.

It was the perfect day for a tourney Renly couldn’t help but think. The sun was shining and the breeze off the sea was calm and almost fresh for once.

“How do you find it?” He asked, turning to Loras who was riding beside him

Loras just shrugged and Renly smiled. He knew that whilst Kings Landing was very different to Highgarden, and to Storm's End for that matter, Loras would probably feel no less self-assured here.

Finally having battled their way through the crowds, they arrived at the Tourney ground. Robert had arrived shortly before them, and was seated under a great pavilion that was draped in blacks and golds, the Baratheon colours. A flagon of wine was already in his hand and every time he took a swig from it, Renly saw that the Queen's expression became a little more pained and she visibly suppressed a sigh, looking pointedly away from her royal husband.

Following her gaze, Renly could see that it was her twin she was watching, To her right he was saddling his horse, his white cloak of the Kingsguard flapping slightly in the world. He also was very comely, and Renly was ashamed to admit that had Jaime Lannister been less of a kingslaying monster, he might have found him rather attractive.

Loras had seemed to notice Renly's gaze and smirked as if guessing Renly's thoughts, seemingly not feeling in the least threatened.

Renly raised an eyebrow, and couldn't help but turn to whisper in his ear as they walked through the crowd towards the pavilion, his voice so low that it was almost inaudible.

“So how come you can smirk at me admiring Jaime Lannister and yet you practically turned green with envy when I danced with that maid of Tarth?” he practically hissed.

“Easy” Loras smirked. “You don't like him, and he doesn't like you. Where's the threat there?”

“And I liked the maid did I?”

“More than you like the Kingslayer” Loras said simply, as if it were obvious.  
.  
“I admit that I found her company tolerable enough, but I hardly would ever be capable of liking her the way I like you”

“Obviously. But that doesn't change the fact that you pander to her obvious infatuation with you. It was irritating”

“ _Obvious infatuation?!_ ” Renly just rolled his eyes and turned away from him. Loras was impossible. He would never understand what was going on in that boy's head

Loras was just about to reply when Renly raised his hand to hush him. Ser Barristan was approaching, ready to escort him to his seat beside the Robert.

He turned back to Loras. “Loras I'll see you later, you're to stay with Penrose until my tilt is called and then come find me.”

Loras nodded and muttering something very rude about Penrose under his breath, turned to follow the older man through the crowd.

“Oh and Loras,” Renly called after him “Good luck!”

Loras grinned and Renly watched him leave as Barristan Selmy escorted him to the pavilion, leading him to a seat to the right of Robert. Usually the crown prince would sit here, yet as the Tourney was to be held for Renly's name day, he had been given the honour of sitting at the king's right side. The crown prince was sat to Renly's own right, in between himself and Stannis, and greeted him cordially enough when Renly sat down. The smile didn't quite reach his eyes though and his face displayed the same glaze of boredom that graced his mother's. He lounged effortlessly in his seat, his face smug with a self-important righteousness that made Renly want to grind his teeth in Stannis fashion.

Ser Barristan sat in the tier in front of him, with the rest of the Kingsguard and the hound, Joffrey's sworn shield. All eight would be riding today, and Renly crossed his fingers that he would not be called to face any of them.

He was very thankful indeed thus when it was announced that he would be opening the tourney against a knight of House Hollard, the only knight of House Hollard in fact if Renly remembered correctly, for that knightly house of Duskendale had all but been wiped out by the Mad King.

He was a portly man and Renly was pleased to note that he didn’t look particularly threatening. On the contrary, Renly had a slight suspicion the man might be drunk. His gait seemed rather unsteady and he was waving his arms around rather wildly as his squire did up his gauntlets.

All the same, he thanked his luck and descended from the pavilion to face him, Loras approaching him to make a few last minute adjustments to his own armour.

“What do you think my chances are?” Renly laughed, as Loras fastened the gorget.

Loras glanced disdainfully in the knight’s direction who was now stumbling as he tried to mount his horse.

“If you lose against him Renly, I will be ashamed to be associated with you.”

Renly just grinned and mounted his own steed, shifting in the saddle so that Loras could tighten the girth. “I’d better not lose then.” He whispered, feeling unusually confident as he watched his opponent kick his horse on clumsily.

He was right not to have worried it seemed, for it transpired that the knight clearly was drunk. He fell out of his saddle before Renly’s lance had even touched him and the crowd roared with laughter as he rolled around in the dirt, cursing loudly as his red cloak became soiled with mud.

Renly was all too willing to join in the laughter, and grinned as several squires ran out to help the floundering knight, pulling him to his feet and leading him to a barrel of water into which they dunked his head.

Robert seemed to find the whole thing rather amusing and clapped Renly heartily on the shoulder as he retook his seat, congratulating him loudly and exuberantly.

It seemed to take a age before Loras tilt was caused and when it was, Renly imagined that he was more nervous than Loras himself probably was. He had never seen Loras nervous and imagined that he would approach this just as unfazed as he usually was despite it being his first tourney. He was up against Ser Andar Royce whom Renly knew almost nothing about, other than that he was Lord Royce of Runestone's eldest son. He wondered whether he was any good.

Renly could hardly bear to watch he was desperate for Loras to do well. Yet he forced himself to watch as the two men galloped headlong at each other, one a knight and the other almost one. Renly only realised he had been holding his breath when he let out a long sigh of relief as Ser Andar hit the ground with a dull thump.

Ser Barristan turned to him from the row of seats in front.

“Your squire, my lord?” he asked.

“Yes” Renly asked, feeling rather proud “Loras has been my squire for many years now.”

Ser Barristan laughed. “But I'd hazard a guess that he won’t be your squire for much longer! How old is he?”

“Four and ten” Renly replied.

“He's good.” Ser Barristan smiled. “I've rarely seen anyone hold a lance so naturally, let alone at ten and four. Mark my words, he'll be one of the best before long.”

Renly laughed. “I'd pass on your compliments. But I fear telling him that the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard praised his skills would only serve to make him rather more arrogant than he already is!”

Ser Barristan laughed back. “Ah yes, arrogance gets the better of most young knights. Most grow out of it” He paused and Renly could have sworn that his eyes flicked to Jaime Lannister. “Some don't.”

Renly smiled, and with that they both turned back to the jousting, where one of the Freys had just been unhorsed by Thoros of Myr.

It was a good Tourney and Renly was pleased to see Penrose perform well despite getting on in years, breaking his lance on the shield of Ser Lothor Brune and unhorsing one of the lesser Lannisters, before being unhorsed himself by Ser Meryn Trant, a knight of the Kingsguard. He was not pleased to see however that Nabert Grandison, the lad with whom Loras often quarrelled, also performed adequately, defeating Ser Hobber Redwyne, before losing to his twin Ser Horas.

Renly himself on the other hand felt he’d been rather hard done by. He defeated a Ser Reynald of House Westerling with relative ease before being drawn against Ser Robar Royce, the younger brother of the knight Loras had faced in the first round. He seemed rather more skilled than Ser Andar and Renly had found that he’d had to respect the young knight’s prowess even despite the fact that it had left him in the dirt.

They’d spoken afterwards, Ser Robar wishing him a good name day as they made their way to the end of the lists. Renly had found him very pleasant and obliging and had returned to his seat out of the tourney but with a smile on his face.

Loras on the other hand seemed to have found his calling in life. Renly had known he was good, everybody had always told him so, but he hadn't expected him to be quite this good. He had already unhorsed Ser Horas and Ser Bryan Fossoway, and in the fourth round Renly was astounded to see him break his lance on the shield of Ser Meryn Trant.

Renly didn't think he'd ever forget the look on Ser Meryn’s face as he realised he'd been out-jousted by a fourteen year old who was still a squire at that. Renly couldn’t help but laugh as Ser Meryn returned to his seat with a grim frown on his face, made worse by the fact that many of his fellow Kingsguard seemed to find his defeat at the hands of a squire highly amusing.

Renly groaned inwardly however when it was announced that Loras would be facing no other than Jaime Lannister in the semi-finals. He glanced anxiously over at where Loras was saddling up, a fat boy called Borrys helping him with his gauntlets. He didn’t seem fazed by the fact that he was about to ride against the best knight in the seven kingdoms and yet Renly thought even Loras must have known that he stood no chance of moving through this round.

Indeed, it was over rather quickly, and in a loud clash of steel, Loras hit the ground hard. He didn’t seem hurt though and stood up rather quickly, leading his horse back to the stables.

Renly wanted to go to him and congratulate him, but with the semi-finals already started, Renly thought it rather imprudent to leave his seat at a tourney held in his honour. Not that Robert would have noticed Renly thought. He was so drunk that he could barely string a sentence together, and considering the rate Robert was drinking at now, he could only imagine how rowdy the feast later would get. He knew that Robert would expect him to get well and truly into his cups too; his brother had rather strong opinions on exactly how much a Baratheon ought to drink, and as Stannis always fell short of Robert's expectations, Renly knew that the pressure would be on him to drink all the other lords under the table.

Still Robert seemed to have sobered up enough by the finals to be able to congratulate Jaime Lannister as he unhorsed the Hound in the final round.

“Jaime Lannister” The King had slurred. “ _Jaime Lannister_... I suppose I'm obligated to give you your winnings.” The king chucked a large sack full to bursting with gold dragons at Jaime Lannister's feet. “Not that it's much for a Lannister of course... Maybe I'll have to ask your Lord father to shit out some more!” The king boomed with laughter and Renly thought the Queen about to slap him. As quickly as it had come though, the rage dissipated from her face, and again she resumed her bored expression.

It was only when Jaime Lannister had been waved away by the King and the crowd began to disperse, that Renly thought it safe to slip away and find his household.


	49. Chapter 49

Renly found his way easily to the part of the Tourney grounds where his own company were camped. It was easy enough to spot; the tents were all draped with black and gold banners and all around familiar faces were milling about. From the noise level, Renly suspected the majority of his household were in the large communal pavilion; indeed, peering inside, he could see Penrose being helped out of his armour by one of the younger squires.

“Penrose” Renly called cheerfully, laying a hand on his shoulder when he reached him and trying not to dwell on their conversation earlier that morning. “You rode wonderfully”

Penrose smiled. “Not too bad for an old man” he conceded. “But I think it's your squire that you want to be congratulating. He put a lot of the knights out there to shame”

“That he did Penrose.” Renly grinned. “Is he pleased with how he did?” He laughed. “Knowing Loras, I wouldn’t put it past him to be a little put out that he _only_ reached the semi-finals!”

Penrose laughed. “True. But I dare say even Loras has enough sense to know that he did well today despite not being the victor. Or if he doesn’t, then he’s certainly been told so by enough people. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone as proud as Mace Tyrell was when he saw him.”

Renly smiled. “So he’s seen his family?”

“Yes yes.” Penrose nodded. “They seemed ever so pleased to see him. I dare say you’ll be making a lot of people very happy when you send him back home.”

Renly couldn’t help but grimace slightly at those words.

Penrose perhaps realised then that he’d hit a rather sore spot for he patted Renly gently on the arm. “Why don’t you go and congratulate him yourself?” He gestured over to the far side of the tent where Renly could see Loras surrounded by many of the young knights and squires of Storm's End, already out of his armour and listening intently as he was presumably told how wonderful he was.

Renly nodded and headed over.

“Loras” Renly called, patting him on the shoulder. “You did wonderfully!”

“I could have done better.” He shrugged nonchalantly, though Renly thought he could see the beginnings of a grin.

Renly rolled his eyes. “Don’t be like that. You did well and you know it.”

“Well obviously I did _well_.” Loras retorted. “My point was is that I could have done _better_. I could have won.”

Renly sighed. “There’s no pleasing some people is there!”

Loras laughed. “Next time.” He said quietly, more to himself than to Renly.

“Next time what?”

“Next time I’m going to win.” He grinned. “And preferably unhorse Jaime Lannister in the process.” He dropped his voice to a whisper. “And perhaps you’ll find him less comely when he’s covered in dust.”

Renly rolled his eyes and resisted the urge to shove him. He turned instead to address the whole group, smiling when he saw that they hushed instantly. “Right,” He said. “Get yourselves out of your armour, as we have a feast to attend!”

There were much cheering and a loud clattering of steel as everyone hurried to obey his words. Renly merely grinned and grabbed Loras’ arm, steering him out of the tent where they’d have more privacy. Leaning up against the side of the tent, he whispered under his breath to Loras;

“Accompany me back to the red keep ahead of the others?”

Loras raised an eyebrow, still smiling. “And may I ask for what purpose my lord?” his voice was low and warm against Renly's cheek.

“You know for what purpose.” Renly whispered, risking leaning in and tilting Loras' head back so he could kiss his neck. He could feel Loras' pulse racing beneath his lips, whether from the excitement of the day or Renly's touch he couldn't tell.

Loras’ breath hitched slightly as Renly continued kissing his neck, slow soft kisses that seemed to be making Loras melt underneath him.

Renly drew back and grinned “I'll take that as a yes then?”

The short ride back to the red keep was a tense one and both of them were rather worked up by the time they’d reached Renly’s chambers. Collapsing onto Renly's bed in a tangle of limbs, Renly didn’t think he’d ever seen Loras so heated; the excitement of the tourney had evidently riled him up. Loras had never been gentle so to speak, but today he was bordering on aggressive; grasping Renly by the arms he flipped him over, pushing Renly's face into the pillow and trailing rough kisses down his back. Renly didn’t fight back. He was more than happy to let Loras do anything he liked.

“You want me like this?” Renly asked Loras, who didn't respond except to push his head back down onto the pillow, and kiss his neck so fiercely that Renly feared it would leave marks the way he was nipping at the soft skin.

“Oi” Renly hissed, pulling away from Loras' kisses. “If you're going to play rough, do it lower down. I can't be doing with explaining those sort of bruises.”

Loras practically growled at him, but had conceded to move his kisses lower down, gripping Renly's shoulder with one hand as he covered Renly's back in not-so-gentle kisses.

He was mildly surprised but not complaining when Loras slipped a finger into him. Indeed, he found that he was beginning to understand why Loras found it so difficult to keep quiet and after a few moments he couldn’t help but gasp involuntarily as Loras’ fingers found a spot that sent shivers up his spine.

Renly was almost moaning into the pillow when Loras ceased his onslaught of kisses and moved his fingers up to Renly’s hips. Feeling strangely empty all of a sudden, Renly was just about to beg him to resume when Loras eased into him, stretching him wide with his cock. This was only the second time they’d tried this this way round and Renly forced himself to relax, savouring the sensation as Loras rocked up into him time and time again.

As Renly had suspected though Loras didn't last particularly long, his almost feverish desire tipping him over the edge after a couple of minutes and leaving him collapsed against Renly panting heavily.

Renly pushed him off him and rolled over to face him.

“You don’t usually want it that way round?”

Loras smirked. “I guess I was in a mood for it.”

Renly grinned. “If this is what reaching the semi-finals does to you, I dread to think what you’ll do to me if you win.”

Loras frowned. “ _When_ I win.” He corrected.

Renly laughed and pulled Loras to him, kissing his curls. “I’m sure you’ll win many tourneys.” He said, laughing. “But first I think we both need a bath.” He looked Loras up and down, reaching over to push Loras’ sticky curls out of his eyes. “I think we might cause a bit of a stir if we descended looking like this!”

Surprisingly, Loras offered to fetch water and it wasn’t long before he returned with enough hot water to fill the silver tub in Renly's room. Renly sighed as he sunk down into it, stretching his aching limbs and enjoying the warmth of the water.

Loras hopped in not long after, sitting cross legged in the tub and leaning back against him. “Do you think you will enjoy the feast?” he asked, leaning his arms over the edge of the tub.

Renly laughed “Probably, though I doubt I'll remember much of it if my brother gets his way!”

“I've never really seen you properly drunk” Loras commented.

“That's because it takes a lot of liquor to get me to such a state” Renly paused. “Unlike someone I know” he added teasingly.

“I'll concede that” he laughed, lounging back against the Renly’s chest lazily “Though as far as I'm aware you've ever seen me well and truly drunk twice.”

“True, but I've seen you well and truly tipsy too many times to count!” Renly tugged on Loras' curls affectionately. “It seems it only takes you a few cups of wine to make you rather unsteady on your feet!”

Loras smiled, leaning further back against him so Renly could untangle his hair with his fingers, closing his eyes, obviously enjoying the way Renly was running his hands through his hair. Renly was reminded of a cat being stroked, and half expected Loras to purr as he worked out the knots.

It was more difficult than he anticipated and Renly found himself tugging at the strands impatiently, growing slightly frustrated when they refused to untangle. “Gods Loras, how do you deal with having hair like this? It’s a nightmare.”

Loras yawned. “Leave it then” He smiled “I'll do it later after I've washed it, I've had more practice.” He began rubbing soap roughly into his hair.

Renly sighed. It looked like all the progress he had made with untangling his hair was being rapidly undone.

When they were both clean, they dried themselves and dressed hurriedly. There was very little time before the feast was to begin. Renly was rather irritated to see how quickly Loras managed to untangle his own hair with a brush, despite having re-tangled it all when he'd washed it.

Shortly though, they both descended to the hall where the feast was about to begin. Renly made his way over to the high table, leaving Loras to go off in search of his family. Jon Arryn and Robert were already seated and the hand of the king seemed pleased to see Renly, standing up and greeting him warmly. His wife Lysa was sat next to him, her long hair woven into a heavy plait that wound about her head. Evidently their young child had been put to bed.

“Lady Arryn” Renly said, kissing her hand. She looked even more ill at ease than the last time he had seen her and Renly quickly turned back to her husband who looked as if he was waiting to speak to him

“Lord Renly, if you could spare the time to come and see-”

“Later Jon” Robert growled, interrupting whatever Jon Arryn had been about to say and embracing him as if he hadn't just seen him at the Tourney. “Come sit down Renly, the feast is about to start, and I'm in need of a decent drinking partner.” He gestured to Jon Arryn. “This one's past it, and Ned's buried himself up in that godforsaken of a place he calls Winterfell, so come keep a king company won’t you? A king needs a bit of company when he's surrounded all the time by bloody Lannisters!”

Jon Arryn sighed, and took his seat next to his lady wife. Renly sat himself down beside him, and looked down the high table. There were a great many lords and ladies here he thought. Indeed he could see Edmure Tully making strained conversation with Tywin Lannister’s brother, and further down the table he thought he could identify Loras’ father and his lady wife. Glancing around though, he saw that Robert was right about being surrounded by Lannisters. It seemed to Renly that the whole brood must have vacated Casterly rock; there was a sea blonde hair and an abundance of brilliant green eyes.

He looked back over to where the Tyrells were sitting. He couldn’t see Loras, but reckoned he would most likely be sitting on Mace Tyrell’s far side.

He turned to Robert. “Pray excuse me for a moment.” Renly vacated his seat and made his way down the table. Sure enough Loras was sat on his father’s left-hand side, sandwiched in between him and his older brother Garlan.

Mace Tyrell got to his feet when he noticed Renly approaching. The rest followed suit.

“My lord, Such an amiable tourney.” He bumbled, shaking Renly's hand “My family and I enjoyed it greatly”

Renly laughed. “I think you would do better to thank Lord Arryn, I suspect that he did most of the organising in my stead. I am honoured though that you found time to travel up for the celebrations.” He paused, glancing down at Loras who was standing next to who Renly assumed was his mother, a still beautiful lady with long silver hair that fell almost to her waist. “You must be very proud of Loras, he rode ever so well today.”

Mace agreed heartily, clapping Loras on the shoulder. “At this rate, he'll soon be as good as his brother Garlan!” He looked fondly over at the only one of the Tyrells Renly had met before.

“We'll see about that!” Garlan laughed, ruffling Loras' curls affectionately and making him scowl. “I should have participated it seems, if only to put my younger brother back in his place!”

Renly turned to the young man “It is nice to see you again” he said, smiling widely. “It was ever so pleased to see you at the last tourney I held at Storm’s End.”

Mace blustered then. “I’ve been very rude lord Renly, let me introduce you to my wife.”

Renly smiled as Mace began making hasty introductions. Lady Alerie reminded him a great deal of Loras in the way she was softly spoken, yet seemingly very sure of herself. He seemed to get his looks however from his father and whilst Mace Tyrell was getting on a bit and was rather portly in stature, Renly could see that he had most definitely been very comely in his youth.

“It's been a pleasure having your son squire for me Lady Tyrell.” He said before turning back to Mace. “But I believe I'll be handing him back to you within the next few days” Renly felt his throat tighten at the thought, but forced himself to keep smiling, registering that Mace had swelled with pride.

They discussed Loras’ performance for a good long while before Garlan turned to address him. “Lord Renly.” He started, smiling. “I hear from Loras you have agreed to brighten Highgarden with your presence. It would please me greatly if you were able to make it for mine and Leonette’s wedding.” He laughed. “It’s to be in a moon.”

Renly grinned. “Nothing would please me more.”

Garlan returned the grin and Renly saw Loras smile triumphantly. A few more pleasantries concerning the upcoming wedding were exchanged before Renly felt reluctantly that he should probably return to his seat. He politely excused himself and walked back along the table, feeling rather inexplicably conflicted. Loras seemed so happy surrounded by his family and Renly couldn’t help but fear he’d forget about him once he’d returned to Highgarden and once more had his siblings to entertain him. He knew it was irrational; Loras’ drunken outburst had proved as much the other day; and yet still Renly was half convinced Loras would welcome returning home more than he claimed to.

Reaching his own siblings, for Stannis had arrived in his absence, Renly sat down opposite Robert, who was listening to Stannis and Jon Arryn drone on about some small council matter. It was obvious to everyone involved however that the king was paying little if any attention.

“Enough talk” he insisted when Renly sat down “Let's feast!” He motioned for the servants to begin bringing the first course in, and hurriedly what seemed like hundreds of dishes were brought in, along with countless flagons of wine.

Robert reached for one as soon as it was placed on the table, pouring drinks for everyone next to him and thrusting cups at them.

“Drink!! Your king commands it!” he ordered, and Stannis dutifully sipped from his cup, seeming to take no pleasure in it.

Robert laughed “Come on Stannis! It’s rare all three of us are together, why don't you let your hair down a bit!” He gestured to Stannis' bald head, and roared with laughter at his own joke. When Stannis continued to sip politely, he turned to Renly “Come on then Renly, let's see you try and outdrink your brother then.”

Renly laughed. He was fond of wine and there seemed no point in arguing with him. One way or another Robert would get his way in the end and so lifting his cup to Robert, he got started on his wine. Perhaps it would even ease some of the awkwardness between himself and Stannis.

Several courses later Renly was well and truly drunk. The world was spinning around him and even Stannis’ steely glares didn’t faze him. He'd gone cup to cup with Robert so far, despite knowing that he'd regret it sorely in the morning. Renly had to admire his brother's stamina, he himself was flagging and yet his brother was still ploughing through the flagons of wine. He didn't even seem half as drunk as Renly was.

“Come on Renly!” He boomed “You can do better than that!” Renly could see two Jon Arryns shaking their heads in exasperation and knew he ought to call it a day. Renly was determined not to disappoint Robert though and somehow more wine even seemed like an appealing idea and he found himself accepting the cup Robert thrust at him.

By the end of the feast, Renly could barely sit straight. Stannis kept having to prop him up, sighing, teeth grinding. He could hear Jon Arryn despairing, telling someone Renly didn't recognise how the King had got his youngest brother horrendously drunk. He tried to stand up to protest at this, he wasn't drunk, just a little tipsy was all. Stannis caught him before he hit the floor and pushed him back into his seat, his tone harsh.

“Someone please help my brother upstairs, I think it's time he retired.”

Renly thought he could hear Robert's booming laughter, and saw the Jon Arryns get to their feet, mentioning something about finding him his squire. What seemed like moments later, Jon Arryn had returned with Loras, who took one look at Renly and then disappeared again. It was rather a shame that he’d left Renly thought. He wanted to shout after him to stay, but proper words didn't come out.

Renly tried to stand up and order him to come back, but Stannis forced him back into his seat, muttering something Renly didn't really understand about not embarrassing himself. Sat down again, Renly gripped the edge of the table, wishing that the world would stop swaying, it was beginning to make him feel rather queasy.

Loras returned shortly with who Renly thought he recognised as Garlan. Loras pulled him to his feet, trying to help him keep his balance.

“Can you walk my lord” He asked, and Renly was about to ask him why the formality when he remembered vaguely that he was in public.

“Umm yes I think so” Renly managed to slur out and tried to take a step forward in order to prove his point. Loras caught him and tried to prop him up, rather unsuccessfully.. Renly heard laughter behind him and suddenly he was leaning against someone much sturdier and strong hands were holding him up.

Renly tried to swivel round and saw that it was Garlan Tyrell who was supporting him. Loras was standing next to him, helping Renly keep his balance. Renly had a sudden urge to kiss him, but Garlan's grip was firm and Renly found himself unable to lean in any direction. Instead he let himself be half guided, half dragged out of the hall by Garlan, Loras following at his heels.

Together they pulled him awkwardly up the stairs, Renly stumbling on every other step. When they were out of sight of the hall, they stopped and Renly could hear the two brothers muttering to each other, Renly couldn't quite make out their words though. After what seemed like much discussion, Renly felt himself lifted off the floor. Even in his drunken state, Renly knew he ought to feel slightly embarrassed at having to be carried up the stairs but it was a whole lot more comfortable than being dragged.

Renly was relieved when he was placed gently on what he hoped was his own bed. He groaned and gripped a pillow tightly, hoping that if he hugged the pillow tightly enough the room would stop tipping from side to side. Closing his eyes, he found that that helped slightly, and he felt rather more in control. He could hear the two brothers discussing him.

Garlan was speaking. “Do you think he'll be alright?”

Renly heard Loras sigh and felt him sit down beside him, a hand tangling in Renly's hair and pushing it out of his face “Yeah he'll be fine.” He paused, “Thanks for helping me with him, I don't know how I'd have managed on my own.”

Garlan laughed “He is heavy” he conceded and Renly wondered vaguely whether Garlan thought it odd that Loras was continuing to stroke his hair.

“I should probably stay with him for a while,” Loras was saying “Make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.”

Garlan didn't reply straight away but Renly felt the bed dip where he'd obviously sat down next to Loras, and shortly afterwards Loras' hand left his hair.

“Alright Loras, you stay here, it's clear your lord needs you. You sure he'll cope without you when you come home?” He joked.

Loras was silent for a time. “You know Garlan” he said eventually, his voice quiet “I'm not sure that he will.”

Renly felt the bed spring up again as Garlan evidently stood up, and heard him say something softly to Loras that Renly couldn't quite hear, before the door clicked shut and he heard Garlan descending the stairs.

Loras moved closer to him and resumed stroking his hair, his body warm against him. Renly pressed himself closer; he suddenly felt rather shivery.

He opened his eyes and looked up at Loras, his gaze unfocused “You know Loras” he managed to get out, his words still slurring terribly even to his own ears. “I think you might be right with what you said to your brother.”

Loras laughed softly, pulling the covers up over Renly and tucking them around him. Renly closed his eyes and let his head fall back onto the pillow. Sleep was calling him and Loras, he knew, would not leave his side until morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Going away for two days tomorrow evening- so won't be able to post till Friday :( Tried to make up for this with an extra long chapter today!


	50. Chapter 50

Renly’s head was pounding when he awoke. He tried to sit up but had to lie straight back down, he felt so terrible. Groaning, he looked around for Loras. He wasn't lying next to him like he'd expected him to be.

His head still spinning, he called out for him, and sure enough Loras came bounding across the room from where Renly could see he'd been sitting by the window.

“You’re finally awake?” Loras seemed overly cheerful; he was smiling and there was a spring in his step.

"Mhmm” Renly groaned “You already up?”

Loras raised an eyebrow and came to sit on the edge of the bed. “ _Already?_ It's after noon Renly. But yes, I went to take breakfast with my parents and Garlan. And lunch.” He added with a laugh. “I left you sleeping. I figured you could do with the rest. I guessed you're probably not feeling too great.”

Renly murmured his agreement, cursing how Loras could be so cheerful when his head felt like it was being pelted with rocks. He tried to think back to the night before but it was all a blur. All he could remember was Robert’s face swimming in his vision, pushing a glass into his hands.

“How embarrassing was it last night?” He asked, dreading the answer.

Loras laughed softly “Not so bad. I mean a lot of people laughed when you almost fell out of your seat you were so drunk, but lots of people were in a similar state. Apparently Robert himself had to be helped up to bed after being drunk under the table by Thoros of Myr, and I'm told Ser Tanton Fossoway passed out on the floor shortly afterwards. So I shouldn't worry!”

“That's not quite what I meant.” Renly mumbled “I meant whether I managed to keep my hands off you in such a state.”

“Oh” Loras paused, grinning “Well I'm sure that the fact I was all the way down the other end of the table helped. I did think you were going to try and kiss me at one point, but I don't think anyone except maybe Garlan saw, so no harm done”

Renly groaned. “No harm done you say. You don't care that he might have seen?”

Loras shrugged. “Not particularly.”

Renly sighed. Loras’ nonchalance unnerved him. He for one found it rather disconcerting that people might be aware of the rather unusual relations between him and Loras, even if it was Garlan who smiled so often and seemed to never raise his voice in anger. He'd hoped to keep his and Loras' doings very much under the rug, so much so that he’d even asked Loras to refrain from telling his sister, the childhood confidant that Loras seemingly told everything. He wondered now though whether Loras had been as truthful as he might have been when he’d promised he wouldn’t tell Margaery.

“Tell me the truth Loras. Do they know?”

Loras shrugged. “Probably.”

“You told Margaery didn’t you?” It came out as more of an accusation than Renly meant it as.

Loras frowned and looked slightly hurt. “No” he said simply “I’ve told her nothing since you asked me not to. Even though I've hated every minute of hiding things from her.”

“And before then?” Renly didn’t think he really wanted to know the answer.

Loras sighed. “She knew that I desired you and that I considered it likely that you reciprocated the feeling.” He paused hesitantly. “I should imagine that she’s worked out the rest herself.”

Renly just nodded quietly. He supposed he had no right to be angry over such things but still it stung slightly to think of Loras and his sister discussing him behind his back, even if he and Loras had been no more than friends at the time. He sighed, still unable to quite grasp why Loras was so open to the idea of sharing such intimate details with his siblings. He thought back to his own experience with Stannis in the sept and just the thought of Stannis knowing made him cringe.

“Does it not bother you?” Renly asked. “That your family might know what we do together?”

“Should I care either way?” Loras sighed. “I've always been my father's favourite, it's not like he's going to disown me because of who I sleep with.”

Renly had to laugh at that, but immediately regretted it when the pain seared through his head. He reached out instead for Loras, taking his hand and pulling him down beside him. Somehow his head hurt less when Loras was pressed up against him and he suddenly regretted having accused Loras of telling Margaery.

“I’m sorry for arguing with you.” He whispered, pressing a kiss into Loras’ curls.

Loras raised an eyebrow. “You call this an argument?” He sounded rather disbelieving.

Renly shrugged. As far as he was concerned, it was certainly the closest he and Loras had come to arguing yet.

“Well what do you call what me and Penrose do then?” Loras asked.

Renly laughed. “Less of an argument and more of a war perhaps?”

Loras grinned and wrapped his arms around Renly’s waist. “You know I might actually miss fighting with Penrose when I go back to Highgarden.” He laughed. “I never thought I’d say that.”

Renly grinned. “I dare say he too will be sadder to see you go than he’ll let on.” He sighed. “I can knight you this evening if you like?”

Loras nodded eagerly. “Assuming you can get out bed right?”

Renly groaned and buried his face in Loras’ shoulder. “Why did I ever drink last night?” He murmured into the fabric of Loras’ shirt.

Loras laughed and patted his head fondly. “Do you think it will be weird when I'm not your squire anymore?”

Renly glanced up. “Seeing as you have rarely ever acted like my squire, I'm guessing not?”

Loras tugged on his hair sharply. “That's not fair, I've always done everything you've asked me to”

Renly could think of countless examples to the contrary but decided to let it slide. Perhaps technically what Loras had said was true. He'd usually do what he asked, but in the most roundabout and insolent way he could manage.

Loras seemed to realise what Renly was thinking for he rolled over and laid his head on Renly's chest, unusually docile. Renly stroked his hair absent-mindedly, wishing the pain in his head would stop. They lay there for a time, in a comfortable silence, Loras so still against him that Renly wondered whether he was asleep.

Sighing, Renly gently nudged Loras off him and sat up, ignoring the way the room still spun slightly as he did so. Loras had rolled over onto his stomach and was watching him inquisitively, so Renly guessed he hadn't been asleep.

“Come on then” Renly sighed and stood up. “Let’s get on with it. I can’t keep you as a squire forever.”

Loras grinned and let Renly pull him to his feet.

……

The word spread quickly that the young squire who had performed so well at the tourney yesterday was to be knighted and a great many people had gathered in the great sept of Baelor to watch him take his oaths. Lord and Lady Tyrell sat in the front row, along with much of their household who had accompanied them to Kings Landing. Renly’s own household sat behind them, many of the young knights and older squires who had been Loras’ peers having turned out to watch.

Renly resisted the urge to sigh as Loras recited his oaths. Whilst he was proud of Loras, he couldn’t help but have preferred it when Loras’ allegiance was to him and him alone. No more would Loras wear the blacks and golds of House Baratheon and no more would Renly be his liege lord. He would go as he pleased now, swear allegiance to whomever he chose.

The ceremony was quick, and aside from Renly having to stifle a wry laugh when Loras swore his allegiance to the seven for he could think of many instances where Loras’ actions would certainly not please the seven, it all went smoothly. Loras looked quite magnificent Renly thought, stood as he was clad in no colours and sworn to no-one save the gods. He was surely not the only one who thought it either and glancing around he could see many ladies gazing on also with adoring looks on their faces.

Only the night –long vigil remained now and those that had come to watch the vows filed out of the sept quietly once the oaths had been sworn. Renly however hung back, waiting until he and Loras stood alone in the great sept before speaking.

“Happy?” Renly asked, laying a hand on his shoulder.

Loras hesitated for a while before answering. “It’s an odd feeling.” He said quietly. “A good one, but odd all the same. Part of me will miss being your squire I think.”

Renly laughed softly. “Tell me that again when you’ve won your first tourney.” He took his hand of Loras’ shoulder. “This is where I leave you, I guess.” He gestured around the empty sept. It seemed somehow even larger than it usually did, the cavernous walls almost foreboding in the candlelight. He loathed to leave Loras in such a cold and empty place.

Loras nodded wordlessly.

Renly sighed and unfastened his cloak. “Here.” He said softly, pressing it into Loras’ hands. “It gets cold in here at night.” He gave a small smile as Loras ran his fingers over the stag brooch.

He turned away from him then and forced himself not to look back as he reached the great doors. It was only one night that Loras would have to stand vigil, and yet Renly found it rather difficult to leave him there, alone with only the crypts and candlelight to keep him company.

The walk back to the Red Keep was a lonely one and it was with a heavy heart that Renly climbed the steps up to the Red Keep. He was just trying to decide what to do with himself when he passed Ser Barristan Selmy in the courtyard, clad all in white and leading a magnificent sorrel destrier to the stables.

He stopped when he saw Renly and smiled. “I hear our king drank you under the table last night,” He laughed.

Renly grinned. “I suppose that is what name days are for.”

“Aye,” agreed Ser Barristan. “I dare say even his grace’s sworn white-cloaks get further into their cups than they ought to on their name days.”

Renly smiled. “I’ve just knighted my squire.” He commented.

“Is that so?” Ser Barristan returned the smile. “He’ll make a fine knight.”

“He will.” Renly agreed wholeheartedly. He laughed. “I dare say his skill was wasted on me. I haven’t much patience for time spent in the practice yard.”

Ser Barristan laughed. “Aye but there is more to knighthood than being good with a sword. Many other skills that one must be taught.” He paused. “That reminds me, the king’s hand was looking for you earlier.”

“He was?” Renly could think of no reason as to why Jon Arryn would require speaking with him. He wondered fleetingly whether the crown was about to ask him to loan them money and yet he supposed it would be Lord Baelish he would be meeting with in that case.

“Indeed he was.” Ser Barristan nodded. “If you’re not too busy, you could call on him this evening.”

Renly smiled. He had no prior engagements that evening and he could think of worse ways to spend an evening than paying a visit to the tower of the hand. At the very least, it might take his mind off Loras alone in the sept. As such, he bade Ser Barristan good night and turned back the way he had come to walk to the tower of the hand.

It was almost dark by the time he reached the top and Renly thought it rather impressive that Jon Arryn managed to climb all those steps every day. It was nowhere near the height of the battlements of Storm’s End that he and Loras climbed regularly, but even so Renly had to admire the king’s hand’s stamina.

Jon Arryn himself opened the door when he knocked and invited him in pleasantly, his kind old face breaking into a smile. The private audience chamber was warm and welcoming Renly thought, with intricate myrish rugs lining the floor and tapestries hanging on the walls. Jon Arryn led him over to a large mahogany table that sat under the one window that lit the room. It was a curious window Renly though, round with pane of glass that somehow made the light streaming through it shine golden.

“I expect you're wondering why you're here Lord Renly” Jon Arryn said, sitting down on one of the chairs.

“I have to admit, I am rather confused as to why you wanted to speak with me” Renly took a seat opposite him.

“Well let's get straight to the point then shall we?” Jon Arryn smiled at him and as he did so Renly could understand why Robert seemed to look up to him as if to a father. His smile didn’t fade even as he continued speaking. “Robert wants you on his small council Lord Renly”

Renly was taken aback. He didn't know what he'd been expecting, but it certainly wasn't that. A thousand questions flooded his mind. What position would he be given… what sort of thing would he be doing on a daily basis… would he have to live in the capital and so on.

He started with the simplest. “As what?” He asked.

“Master of Laws” Jon Arryn replied. “It would be a large responsibility. You’d be in charge of legal matters at court, settling disputes, overseeing appeals, and all other such matters.”

Renly nodded. It didn’t sound all that different from the sort of thing he did as lord of Storm’s End, only he wouldn’t have Penrose to aid him here.

“Think it over before you make a decision.” Jon Arryn continued. “It's no small matter to consider. It would require for instance that you leave Storm's End to take up permanent residence at court.”

Renly smiled hesitantly. Whilst he was flattered that Jon Arryn thought him a suitable choice, he wasn't sure how he would feel about leaving Storm's End though. The castle had always been his home and taking this position would require naming a castellan to run it in his stead. At the same time however, such a position would give him no small magnitude of power and influence in the capital; it would be a hard offer to turn down.

It was late by the time that Renly finally descended from the tower of the hand, his mind still occupied with the offer Jon Arryn had made to him. He had a good mind to take it he thought. It was one of the best positions on the small council it seemed, and Renly would be a fool to refuse it. All the same though, the thought of having to work with Stannis almost every day made him think twice. His thoughts drifted also to the other members of the small council; he didn't know any of them particularly well and for all he knew, they might be worse than Stannis. Grand Maester Pycelle, he had met on occasions when he was younger he thought; he remembered him as an elderly, man and remembered equally that he had found him unbelievably dull. Petyr Baelish, the master of coin, Renly had never met. He heard though that he laughed easily and had a quick tongue. Perhaps he would be good fun Renly thought. He had never had cause either though to ever speak with Varys, the master of whispers, though he knew that Stannis found him irritating, often complaining of his constant tittering. Still Renly knew that the council relied on his little birds, and even Stannis conceded on occasions that the spider had his uses.

Renly sighed as he turned the corner to his rooms, the majority of the small council were strangers to him. Even Jon Arryn and Barristan Selmy, who Renly felt he knew rather better, he'd only met a handful of times.

He was brought out of his musings by a low voice calling his name. He turned around to see Stannis standing in the corridor. He’d evidently been waiting for him outside his chambers Renly thought. He bit back a sigh. He was in no mood to deal with Stannis, not with relations between the two of them as they were and so much on his mind.

“What is it brother?” Renly asked warily as Stannis beckoned him stiffly for him to follow him outside. It wasn’t until they had gone a fair distance from the ever-listening walls that Stannis spoke and still his voice was low and hushed.

“I understand Lord Arryn has offered you a position on the small-council.” He said through tight lips. “You'd need to take it seriously Renly. It is no small duty.”

Renly laughed, making his mind up then to take the position if only just to spite Stannis. “What makes you think brother that I am incapable of taking anything seriously? I have every intention of succeeding at court.”

Stannis' jaw tightened. “This… _behaviour_ … of yours Renly. It has to stop, especially here in King’s Landing. What with Robert and his drink, I will not have you making a further laughing stock of this family.”

“Laughing stock?” Renly grinned. “You insult me brother. I am quite unclear what you are referring to.”

“You know precisely what I mean Renly.” He ground his teeth. “I will not have you bringing that boy to court.”

It irritated Renly to hear Stannis refer to Loras as _that boy_ , but he forced himself to smile innocently. “I can't think who you're talking about Stannis.”

Stannis glared. “Don't play coy with me Renly.”

“You talk as if such things are unheard of.” Renly raised an eyebrow, his patience wearing thin. “And _that boy_ has a name you know.”

“If you must continue your... perversions, then fine,” Stannis snapped “but find yourself some serving boy, a page. Not the Tyrell boy.”

That angered Renly. “You talk about him as if he's some common whore!”

“He's no better than one, the way you use him.”

Renly resisted the urge to slap him. “I’ll have you know Loras is knighted now. Where he goes is under no control of mine and is no business of yours. He'll go where he will.” He turned away from him. “Now if you don't mind I'll take my leave now.”

With one last glare in Stannis’ direction, Renly swept through the doors and back to his chambers.


	51. Chapter 51

It was inconceivably early when Renly was awoken the next morning and he opened his eyes blurrily to see Loras staring back at him, shaking him awake rather enthusiastically. Renly groaned; the smile on Loras’ face was much too broad for this time in the morning, especially for someone who was supposed to have been awake all night and who was supposed to be leaving for Highgarden innimently. 

“Loras?” He mumbled. “Is it morning already?”

“It’s just getting light.” Loras whispered. “Which means my vigil is done.”

“Good.” Renly yawned. “Come get some sleep.” He reached out to tug Loras down beside him and wrapped his arms around his waist.

Loras wriggled out of his grip. “I’m not sleepy.”

“Well let me sleep then.” Renly closed his eyes and rolled back over, wrapping an arm loosely around one of his pillows, too tired to think of anything else save sleep. A small voice at the back of his mind told him to try and wake up, to make the most of Loras before he was gone, but it was easily silenced by how welcoming his pillows were.

Loras pulled him back, and moved to sit atop him. “Indulge me?” he asked, leaning forward to whisper in Renly's ear.

“Now?” Renly mumbled. “But it’s so early.” He tried to roll over again.

Loras’ weight however pinned him down. “Yes now.” He tilted Renly’s head slightly to kiss his neck.

“Can’t it wait till morning?” Renly yawned loudly.

“It is morning,” Loras whispered insistently.

Renly groaned. “It’s the crack of dawn Loras. Hardly morning. How are you not exhausted like a normal person anyhow?”

“Just humour me?”

Renly sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Go on then. No promises though. It’s just so early.” Even as he said it, his eyes were closing again. It was far too early to be awake in Renly’s opinion and for once even the temptation of Loras didn’t outweigh the temptation of sleep.

Loras grinned broadly though and moved his hands up to Renly’s shoulders, planting kisses all along Renly’s collarbone. They were soft and warm and most importantly didn’t require his participation. Renly sighed happily, closing his eyes and leaning back against his pillows, very much losing the battle against sleep.

He must have drifted off again for he was only vaguely aware of Loras’ hands on his hips and his tongue tracing patterns down towards his navel. He found however that he came to rather sharply when Loras took him into his mouth, coaxing him slowly to full arousal.

Renly sat up, feeling suddenly rather awake as Loras drew him further into the wet warmth of his mouth, his curls tickling Renly’s stomach as he bent over him. Renly let out a soft moan and reached down to push Loras’ hair out of his face.

Loras glanced up, taking Renly in hand instead for a moment. He grinned. “Finally awake are we?”

Renly nodded and pushed Loras’ head back down, leaning back against the headboard as Loras’ tongue traced along his entire length, teasing him with long, slow licks that Renly knew were intended to drive him up the wall.

Before long, it was too much to bear and Renly reached down to grab Loras’ wrists, pulling him into his lap. “You’re a terrible tease Loras” He breathed, tugging Loras’ breeches down and leaving him just in the simple tunic he’d been knighted in. He grinned. “Or should I say _Ser_ Loras?”

Loras just laughed softly and leant in to kiss Renly’s neck, not seeming to care that Renly could really do with a shave and that his stubble must be rather scratchy. “Now?” He whispered, a sense of urgency coming into his voice.

“Mmm hmm” Renly murmured back, lifting Loras up slightly so he could ready him with his fingers.

Loras however tugged his hands away roughly. “I just want you.” He breathed. "This will probably be the last time before I leave."

Renly shook his head. “You’re asking me to hurt you.” He tipped his head back to kiss him. “I’m not going to.”

“I’ll be fine.” Loras rolled his eyes and knelt up, taking Renly in his hands. He grinned. “And besides, you can’t tell me what to do anymore.”

Renly just rolled his eyes. As if he had ever told Loras what to do. He didn’t bother to argue though and just merely took a deep breath, nudging Loras off him slightly so he could lean down to find the little vial of oil under the bed. “As you will.” he sighed, coating himself in more of the oil than he’d usually use seeing as Loras was to be so stubborn.

Loras’ breath hitched as he entered him, whether from pleasure or pain Renly wasn’t sure, possibly both. Whilst he privately suspected though that he had hurt Loras, Loras refused to acknowledge it even in the slightest. He sank down onto Renly time and time again as if pain were something foreign to him, and finding that Renly was trying to be gentle with him, told him point blank to stop messing around and to fuck him properly.

Renly laughed even as Loras glared at him. “Alright alright.” he whispered as Loras prodded him pointedly, pulling out and flipping Loras over so he was on his front. He could be rougher like this and that seemed to be what Loras was after at the moment. Indeed, the harder Renly pushed up into him, the more desperate Loras seemed to become, gasping into the pillow as his grip tightened on the sheets. Desperately, Renly pushed Loras’ head down, trying to muffle his cries against the pillows.

“Shhh will you?” Renly leant down to whisper in Loras’ ear. “We’ve been through this.”

Loras just moaned and growled that he was only knighted once and to let him enjoy it. That shut Renly up and he didn’t really have the heart to insist again. He would just have to hope that it was too early for anybody else to be awake either. Even spiders and little birds needed to sleep too Renly guessed.

All the same, he was oddly relieved when he tipped over the edge and Loras finally quietened.

He rolled off him gently. “What was all that about huh?”

“All what?” Loras panted, coming to lean his head against Renly’s shoulder.

Renly grinned. “Well I know I’m irresistible, but that was a little impatient don’t you think?”

Loras shrugged, smile fading. “Father wants to leave on Thursday.” He sighed. “And even now they’ll probably be expecting me to turn up at some point. They must know I’ll be done in the sept.”

Renly sighed and pulled him closer. “How was the all-night vigil?” He had no desire to dwell on Loras leaving for Highgarden so soon, on the fact that this might very well be the last time he saw him before he left the capital.

“Unsurprisingly uneventful.” The exhaustion seemed to be catching up with him now that his desire was sated, and Renly could see that he was fighting to stay awake as Renly had been earlier.

Renly smiled. “Well, I quite surprisingly in fact, had a very eventful evening.” He proceeded to fill Loras in on the offer Jon Arryn had made him, making sure not to tell him however about his rather tense exchange with Stannis. Loras seeking his brother out and punching him probably wouldn’t make his debut into the small council any easier Renly though, even if it would provide him with amusement for several years.

“You have to take it.” Loras insisted, rubbing his eyes wearily.

Renly grinned. “Why’s that?”

“Because you’d be wonderful” Loras breathed. “And because that way I’d get to see you every time Robert hosts a tournament.”

Renly laughed. “I knew there had to be something selfish in your glee.”

Loras poked him and rolled up on top of him. “Hey, that’s not fair.” He yawned and laid his head on Renly’s chest. “As if you weren’t thinking that too.”

Renly smiled down at him before he sighed wryly. “I guess you shouldn’t get too comfortable Loras. I thought you said your family would be waiting for you to come back?”

Loras sighed. “Yeah you’re right.” He yawned again. “But I’m so tired. And you’re so comfortable. And their rooms are so far.” He glanced up at him through half closed lashes. “I don’t want to leave. Can’t we just stay here and never move?”

Renly kissed the top of his head. “I wish we could.” He laughed sadly. "That offer to go to Pentos with me is still open if you're interested."

Loras just nodded sleepily, and Renly shook him gently to keep him awake. As much as he was sorely tempted to pull the covers up over both of them and go back to sleep too, there was no point Loras falling asleep here, not when his family were expecting him. They’d already thrown caution to the wind once this morning. Besides, part of Renly thought it better to not draw this out, it was already painful enough parting as it was.

“Come on Loras.” He whispered, his heart sinking even as he said it. “The sun’s properly up now. Your father’ll ask questions.”

Loras opened his eyes seemingly reluctantly and rolled off him, fishing around for the rest of his clothes. Renly was pleased to see that Loras put the cloak he had given him yesterday back on, evidently with no intention of giving it back. The sight made Renly smile slightly.

He stood up when he was fully dressed and ran his hands through his tangled hair, sighing. “What now then?” He said, coming to sit beside Renly on the bed. “I’m guessing I won’t see you before I have to go?”

Renly shrugged. “I guess not.” He sighed. It didn’t seem likely that he and Loras would be able to steal any more moments together. It had been four years now since Mace and Alerie Tyrell had seen their son for more than a week at a time. He doubted that they would be very impressed if Loras was to insist upon paying Renly a visit before they left. “What is it, two days perhaps, before you go?”

Loras nodded. “Two days.” He gave a weak smile as if he too didn’t think it likely they would see each other before he left. “You promised to come to Highgarden though. For the wedding?”

“A promise I intend to keep.” Renly sighed. “But I guess it’s goodbye for now?”

Loras laughed softly. “I guess so.” He stood up again, weak smile returning. “In which case I better go before you start weeping.”

Renly rolled his eyes but reached to grab Loras’ wrist all the same. “Write to me? If I can’t come until the wedding?”

Loras nodded, leaning down to kiss him all too briefly. “It’ll be fine.” He said, more hesitantly than Renly would have liked. “Nothing’s going to change.” He gave a faint smile and turned away towards the door.

Renly sighed when the door clicked shut behind him, getting to his own feet and dressing. _Nothing’s going to change_. Loras’ words echoed in his head, comforting but of course entirely untrue. Everything was going to change. Loras would be in Highgarden, he in Kings Landing, who really knew how often they would get to see eachother, whether they'd still feel the same way when they did. He took a deep breath. It would be odd not seeing Loras every day, to not wake up beside him in the morning nor fall asleep next to him in the evening and Renly didn’t know if he could bear it.

He bit back a sigh. He would have to bear it he supposed and trust that Loras’ feelings wouldn’t change when he got home, that he’d still care even when Renly wasn’t part of his day-to-day life. Whilst he tried not to be irrational, for all he knew, Highgarden could be swarming with comely stable boys all begging for Loras to take them into his bed. And perhaps he would, Renly mused. He and Loras had never discussed such things, they had just taken it for granted that neither of them wanted anyone aside from each other, that neither of them _needed_ anyone aside from each other. Loras would have desires still though when Renly wasn’t around; that definitely wouldn’t change Renly thought wryly, and if this morning proved anything in fact, it was that Loras got what he wanted when he wanted it. There was no waiting around for Loras.

He sighed and wondered whether he ought to have spoken to Loras about such things, to have asked him specifically to take no-one into his bed in his absence. He shrugged and buttoned up his doublet. He supposed it was too late now, and no doubt Loras would have taken offence, insisting that he had no interest in anyone save him, repeating that nothing would change. He'd mean it too Renly knew. Part of him suspected though that Loras might feel differently in time, when he’d gone to bed alone every day and hadn’t had a decent fuck in weeks.

Renly wasn’t sure how he’d feel about that; whether he’d feel angry, upset, betrayed even; whether he’d feel the fury husbands felt when their wives were adulterous, or whether he’d weep as wives did when they found that their husbands had gotten a bastard son on some whore. He sighed. There were no rules with what he and Loras had, no marriage vows to keep, no oaths to fulfil, no code of conduct. Would it mean anything if either of them sought mindless pleasure with another man, would he even have any right to be upset over it? He liked to think he did have that right. 

He shook his head, it was no use dwelling on such things. Either Loras would wait for him, or he wouldn’t, and there was little point fretting about it from afar. He was being silly anyway and he knew Loras would have slapped some sense into him had he been here still. Of course Loras would wait. He’d been his best friend for four years and a little distance, a little time apart wasn’t going to change that.

He felt a little more confident by the time he was fully dressed, and thought he might as well do something useful to take him mind of Loras’ absence. The most pressing thing he needed to do was to find Jon Arryn and inform him that he wanted to take the position, but before that he would have to talk to Penrose; he was the only obvious candidate to be his castellan and if Penrose refused, he’d need to rethink his plans.

Penrose was up and breakfasting in his chambers when Renly knocked, opening the door and offering him a plate of lemon cakes.

Renly smiled and took one, taking a seat opposite Penrose at the table. There was an expression he couldn’t quite place on the older man’s face, a mix of amusement and exasperation perhaps.

“Up early today Renly.” Penrose commented dryly.

“It’s not that early.” Renly laughed, stifling a yawn even as he said it. “I guess I couldn’t sleep.”

“Let’s not dwell on that shall we?” Penrose muttered, raising an eyebrow. “All I can say is that I’m wholly glad my chambers were nowhere near yours back in Storm’s End, or Loras’ for that matter.”

Renly blushed furiously. He gulped, trying to think of something to say to that and then deciding it might be easier for both of them if he just changed the subject. “Moving very swiftly on from that, I had something important to discuss with you.” He said hurriedly, trying not to visibly cringe.

Penrose smiled knowingly. “Of course you do.”

“I actually do.” Renly insisted vehemently, when Penrose seemed less than convinced. “I went to see Jon Arryn yesterday. Robert’s asked me to be on the small council. Master of Laws.”

That got Penrose’s attention and he looked thoughtful for a moment. “Are you going to take it?” He asked after a while.

Renly nodded. “Which is why I needed to talk to you. I’d need a castellan. For Storm’s End.”

Penrose laughed. “Is that a hint?”

Renly laughed. “I’m not hinting. I’m asking.”

Penrose smiled fondly. “I was castellan for several years, after Ser Harbert died and yet before you were old enough to do anything save run around pretending to be lord.” He looked lost in memories for a few moments.

Renly laughed. “Sounds like the sort of thing I’d do.” He grinned. “Do I take that as a yes then?”

Penrose nodded. “Yes, yes. Why not after all.”

“Great.” Renly stood up. “I’ll go and find Jon Arryn then shall I.” With that he walked to the door and was just about to walk through it when Penrose spoke again.

“Renly, a quick word of advice though if you’re to stay in the capital.”

Renly swivelled round, his instinct telling him he probably didn’t really want to hear what Penrose was about to say, but his manners refusing to allow him to ignore the man. “Go on.” He said reluctantly. “But if it involves the words _Loras_ and _don’t see anymore_ , I’m not listening.”

Penrose sighed. “I’m not going to suggest you don’t see Loras Renly, only a fool would try and suggest that, you just need to be more careful.” He paused. “What you do behind closed doors is of course none of my business Renly, but you just can’t act like you did this morning, people will talk, rumours will fly. People won’t turn a blind eye like they did in Storm’s End.”

Renly took a deep breath, trying to not let his embarrassment show. “I know that.” He muttered. “It’s Loras who doesn’t seem to understand that.”

Penrose sighed again.” Loras is young, Renly, still half a boy really.” He paused. “He didn’t grow up in and around court as you did. And unless you _make_ him understand, he’ll learn what court is like the hard way.”

Renly nodded, running his hands through his hair wearily. “Tell me the truth Penrose, was it ever so well known at home?” He sighed. “You talk like it was common knowledge.”

“Not common knowledge no.” Penrose said, much to Renly’s relief. “But those who knew you well, well there were suspicions, comments that the two of you spent more time together than you should, that the pair of you were closer than any lord and his squire had any business being.”

Renly sighed. “Nice to know my subjects enjoy gossiping about my private life.” He was somewhat relieved however at Penrose’s words. Suspicions were not the same as knowledge, and rumours and gossip he could deal with.

“Just be careful Renly.”

Renly nodded, his cheeks flushing pink all the same. “I will.” He gave a weak smile. “You’re not the first to tell me that either. You know Stannis warned me not to bring him to court, told me I’d do better doing as Robert does and finding a whorehouse.” He laughed wryly. “I never thought I’d hear my brother counsel such a thing.”

Penrose raised an eyebrow. “He obviously doesn’t know you very well then.” He laughed. “And I’m not going to question how Stannis is privy to such details about your private life. I suspect I’d do better not to ask.”

Renly grinned sheepishly, cringing as he pushed the door open. “That’s probably for the best.” He said, walking through the door and trying desperately to ignore Penrose chuckling behind him.


	52. Chapter 52

Renly had been hopeful that he might bump into Loras in the corridors of the Red Keep before the Tyrells left for Highgarden, but Thursday came and went, and despite Renly doing his best to wander deliberately in the direction of where the Tyrells were staying, he hadn't seen hide or hair of Loras.

He couldn't say that he was surprised, but he was rather disappointed, and come Thursday evening, he had to admit that he was in a rather bad mood: the sort of bad mood that Loras would have been able to pull him out of with nothing more than a raised eyebrow and a few kisses. To top it off, his own household were leaving that evening also and Renly found himself almost wishing he could return home with them. He wanted the position Jon Arryn had offered him, but Kings Landing wasn't his home and Renly doubted it would ever be.

It was only when his household had left that Renly realised quite how lonely the capital could be. He'd spent much of his childhood in and out of court and yet whilst could put a name to almost everyone he came across, there were very few people that Renly would say he knew well.

He found himself writing to Loras several times in the first few days, before ripping the half finished letters up in frustration. It was no use, he thought, telling Loras how lonely and bored he was here, not when there was nothing Loras could do about it from Highgarden. Loras would only worry, or more likely, Renly thought with a laugh, write back that he was being ridiculous. That would be fair enough Renly thought, he'd only been in the capital a week, hardly long enough to decide that he would hate it.

He was almost relieved however when he was summoned by Robert, a day after he informed Jon Arryn that he wished to accept the position. He assumed it would only be to discuss the small council, but even so, it would be some reprieve from the boredom.

Robert was seated on his private terrace when Renly was brought to him, and he looked even more weary than he usually did.

“You asked to see me?” Renly said from the terrace doors, leaning back against the wall.

“Yes yes,” Robert patted the chair next to him. “Come sit.”

Renly obliged, noting with some surprise that Robert seemed sober. For once there was no wine in his hand and no flagon on the table.

“Jon's spoken to you?”

Renly nodded. “Yes, I'm hon-”

“Don't give me that shit” Robert laughed gruffly. “ _Honoured my arse_. I get enough piss talk from my advisers, I don't need it from my brothers. Tell me the truth, do you want to do it?”

Renly laughed and nodded.

“Because I wouldn't blame you, you know, if you wanted to piss off back to Storm's End, enjoy your youth while you've got it. Hunt, whore, find yourself a girl.” He sighed. “It's what I would do if I was you.”

Renly shook his head. “No I want the position, I really do.”

Robert laughed. “So I have an ambitious younger brother do I?” He smiled wryly. “Perhaps you're more like me than just in looks. I was hungry for power once. Got it too. But let me tell you something Renly, it's not as good as you think it's going to be at the top.”

Renly laughed and shrugged.

Robert chuckled. “So be it then. Condemn yourself to a life of boredom and sorting out other people's petty problems.” He paused, looking awkward for a moment. “I've perhaps been a poor brother to you Renly, me and Stannis both, but don't let it be said I didn't warn you.”

Renly grinned. “Well why did you have Jon ask me then if you're so adamant that I'm letting myself in for a life of boredom?”

“It's your own choice to make” Robert grunted. “Personally I'd rather have you than any of those other fools.” He snorted. “Tywin Lannister's been itching for a place on my council ever since I married that bitch of his.”

Renly laughed, not sure whether he should insult Cersei too or whether that would be too far. 

They sat there for a few moments before Robert eventually spoke again. “Well off with you then,” Robert reached up to scratch his beard pensively. “Run along and do whatever it is you enjoy doing.”

Renly grinned and got to his feet, all too happy to leave Robert to his thoughts. He didn't enojy talking about anything serious with either of his brothers, in fact, it rather unnerved him. Besides, he had his first small council meeting tomorrow morning, and he wanted to get a good nights sleep beforehand. He was quite sure he'd need it in order to deal with Stannis for any length of time. Several glasses of wine would do the job too, but he figured it would give a bad first impression if he were to turn up drunk, even if it did show he took after Robert. 

….................

He rose early the next morning and as Renly had expected, the throne room where the small council meeting was to be held was empty save for Jon Arryn. The hand of the king had promised to explain how things worked to him before the meeting began and it seemed he was good on his word. He smiled when Renly entered and beckoned for him to take a seat.

“Good week?” Jon Arryn asked as Renly sat down. “I dare say it must be difficult finding one's feet after so long an absence from Kings Landing.”

Renly laughed. “Still remember my way round though.”

Jon Arryn smiled. “I have to say, many were surprised at how long you were away.” He sighed, as if remembering a time long gone. “It used to be that you would visit almost annually, and yet it's been, what, six years perhaps?”

“About that perhaps. Maybe a little less.” Renly laughed. He had never realised it at the time, but he supposed he had never had any wish to leave Storm's End once Loras had arrived. What he had previously found boring and dull had seemed quite the opposite once he'd had someone to share it with. As such, it had never even crossed his mind to return to the capital.

Jon Arryn shuffled his papers and smiled again. “So, let us get down to business shall we? I suppose you want to know more about what you've let yourself in for.”

Renly grinned and nodded. “So what is it exactly that I'll be doing?”

“The official description is making sure justice is administered, but in less vague terms, it mainly involves managing the dungeons here, making decisions and what not as to the treatment each prisoner receives, what level they're housed on, that sort of thing. It'll also be your duty to oversee the city watch, which is mainly what I wanted to talk to you about today.”

Renly raised an eyebrow. “The gold cloaks. What about them?”

Jon Arryn frowned. “It's their commander that I want to talk to you about, lord Janos Slynt. His idea of upholding justice seems to mainly involve taking bribes, promising positions in exchange for gold, and having men who are willing to speak against him murdered.”

“Well why hasn't Robert dismissed him then? If we know all this?”

Jon Arryn sighed. “That's the problem. He won't do it. _They all steal, better stick to one we know as the next man might be worse._ That's all Robert said when I insisted we dismiss him. I've tried, Stannis has tried, Lord Baelish has told me he's tried, but Robert refuses to listen. I was hopeful you might have a go?”

Renly bit back a sigh. “I can try, but I dare say I won't succeed where you failed.” He laughed wryly. “As I'm sure you've noticed with Stannis, Robert doesn't have much regard for what his brothers think.”

Jon Arryn nodded and smiled rather sadly. “There's still time perhaps lord Renly. He did suggest after all for you to be on this council.”

Renly shrugged. “Perhaps. Well I'll do my best. And if not, I can try and work with what we've got. Perhaps Slynt can be reasoned with?”

“We can only try.” Jon Arryn was interrupted by the creaking of the great door behind them. He sighed. “That will be the rest of the council.”

Glancing round, Renly saw several men walking through the open door. One, he was pleased to see, was Barristan Selmy, the second Stannis, and the other a man of short stature with a rather odd pointed beard and bad clothes who Renly he didn't recognise. Through process of elimination though, Renly could guess at it being Lord Baelish.

Whoever it was seemed to know full well who he was however, for he bowed, rather mockingly Renly thought, and walked up to him.

“Lord Renly.” He said, a small smile playing at his lips as if he knew everyone in the room's secrets just by looking at them. “It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Renly grinned. “Unless I'm much mistaken, you must be lord Baelish?”

“Ah so my reputation proceeds me.” He took a seat opposite. “As does yours.” He paused, smiling and Renly suddenly doubted whether the man had been mocking him earlier. “I wasn't expecting anyone quite so young.”

Renly laughed. “I guess there is rather an large age difference between me and my brothers.” He glanced sideways at Stannis who merely nodded curtly. He could already tell that there was likely to be some tension between this master of coin and his brother.

The Grand Maester was the next to arrive, and he tottered in looking rather more frail than Renly remembered him as, his beard now long enough to tuck into his belt. 

“Lord Renly.” He murmured, coming to place an old wrinkled hand on his shoulder.

Renly bit back a sigh and prepared himself for the inevitable trip down memory lane that all adults seemed to go down when they'd gone any length of time without seeing him. He'd give it a matter of minutes before the old maester pointed out how much like Robert he looked now.

Indeed a glazed look had come over the old man's face. “My my, haven't the years flown by?” he murmured “It's seems only yesterday that I used to see you at play here in the courtyard.” He paused. “And aren't you the spitting image of Robert?”

Renly just laughed. “Speaking of Robert, will he be joining us?”

“Perhaps” Stannis muttered darkly. 

“I wouldn't have high expectations if I were you.” A quiet voice piped up from the doorway and Renly turned round to see a bald man with a powdered face approaching, dressed rather strangely Renly thought from head to toe in purple silk. “The king is otherwise occupied.”

He didn't say with what and nor did anyone question it, so Renly just shrugged and decided not to ask either.

“And you must be Lord Renly,” The bald man tittered as if he found the whole thing rather amusing. “You truly honour us with your presence.” He bobbed slightly, his powdered white head bowed. “I will not presume that however that you know who I am.”

Renly laughed. “I should imagine you must be Varys, the master of whispers.”

“I'm truly flattered, to be recognised by our good king's brother... now that's a wondrous thing indeed.”

“Truly wondrous indeed,” Lord Baelish gave a hint of a smile and gestured around.” Why, there are so many other bald eunuchs on the small council for lord Renly to confuse you with.”

Lord Varys tittered and took a seat opposite Jon Arryn. The meeting started shortly after and Renly had been right to suspect that Stannis and lord Baelish would not see eye to eye. Robert seemed to be spending money left right and centre and whilst Lord Baelish maintained that money could be found for a royal hunt in celebration of his name day, Stannis was adamant that the debts not be added to. Renly just sat and let them argue, feeling it was probably best to let them get on with it. Ser Barristan seemed to share his approach, and Renly found themselves exchanging glances rather often as Stannis' teeth gnashed together more and more forcefully as the meeting continued. 

Eventually Jon Arryn silenced them both, looking exhausted and claiming that he would speak to Robert and see what could be done.

“We wished also to speak of Dorne your hand?” Lord Varys asked, breaking the rather tense silence.

“Next meeting.” Jon Arryn said wearily, glancing first at Lord Baelish and then at Stannis. “Perhaps it would be best to call it a day for today.”

Maester Pycelle murmured his agreement. “Very wise counsel.” His eyes too passed from the smirk on Lord Baelish's face to Stannis' clenched jaw.

Renly was only to happy to get to his feet and file out after Maester Pycelle. He figured it was best to at least attend a few meetings before joining in the arguments. No doubt they all thought of him as no more than a spoilt child who didn't really know what he was talking about; it would probably be best not to leap into an argument he knew little of yet and prove them right.

He felt exhausted by the time he got back to his chambers, yet was pleased to see however that he had had a letter delivered in his absence. He was even more elated when he saw who it was from. 

The envelope was rather thick and when he opened it, two pieces of parchment fell into his lap.

He picked up the first, turning it over and smiling as he saw it was a wedding invitation for a Ser Garlan Tyrell and a Lady Leonnette Fossoway. He grinned as he read to the end. The invitation kindly asked that he send a response back to the maester at Highgarden, but somebody with very familiar handwriting had crossed that part out and written _don't bother, I've told them you're coming and won't forgive you if you don't_ below it.

Renly laughed as he turned his attention to the other piece of parchment. It was only short but rather to the point, the typical sort of thing Loras would send.

_By now I should imagine you've already convinced yourself that you'll never see me again and that everything between us only existed in your imagination. Please slap some sense into yourself if this is correct. See you in a fortnight for the wedding._

He personally wouldn't have gone quite so far but he supposed he would be lying if he said he hadn't worried rather more than was sensible about Loras losing interest in him. He grinned as he got into bed. Loras' suspicions might be true enough, but he'd die before ever admitting such a thing to Loras. Even so, he felt more at ease than he had done in a week, and smiling, he tucked the small piece of parchment under his pillow. 


	53. Chapter 53

Renly had been to three more small council meetings before Robert decided to turn up to one. He came in late, just as Stannis and Lord Baelish had begun to argue over his spending. Both men hushed though as Robert sat down, and it appeared that even Stannis, who was usually so stubborn, wasn't about to waste his time bringing up the topic in Robert's presence.

“So?” Robert laughed gruffly “What are you fools rambling on about today?”

“Your grace,” Varys broke the silence, his hands folded in his lap. “Perhaps the matter of Dorne?”

“What about it?” Robert growled.

“My spies report growing unrest.” Varys started. “Some of my little birds even hint that there might be... _correspondence_ between the dornish lords and the beggar king.”

Save for his occasional outburst at his queen, Renly had never seen his brother angry, but he was truly angry now. He thumped the table with his fist and roared, a foul mouthed torrent of abuse about the _Bloody Targaryens_ spewing out.

“Now, now lord Varys,” Pycelle murmured. “Let us not run away with ourselves. Prince Doran is far too prudent to allow his subjects to risk open treason. I dare say these rumours are no more than fabrications, lies made to stir up the peace.”

This didn't seem to placate Robert in the slightest and it was only when Jon Arryn spoke that he seemed even willing to listen.

“Dorne has always been difficult to rule.” Jon Arryn's voice was thoughtful. “So many differences. Culture, ideals, politics even. Let us not forget too that Princess Elia was to be queen. It is to be expected that we meet some unrest in Dorne.”

“All the same,” Lord Baelish cut in. “Dorne must be kept in the fold.”

“Yes yes,” bumbled Pycelle. “Perhaps a royal visit is in order?”

Robert merely grunted, his lack of enthusiasm evident.

Lord Baelish gave a sly grin. “Perhaps our dear Master of Ships could go in your stead?” he suggested, with an equally sly look sideways at the man himself, his smirk widening. 

“Stannis?” Robert growled. “Do you want a rebellion on our hands?”

Stannis' lips pursed and the vein in his temple throbbed, but he said nothing. Renly resisted the urge to laugh. He'd been all prepared to spend his time riling Stannis up in these meetings, but it appeared this master of coin enjoyed doing it for him. 

“Perhaps a match with Quentyn Martell then?” Pycelle suggested, scratching out the name on a piece of parchment. He looked at Stannis. “Lady Shireen is near enough his age for a betrothal to be considered.”

Nobody said anything, not even Robert, but Renly knew everyone was thinking along the smae lines as he was, in that, most likely, the Dornish would take being offered such a disfigured bride as a slight. There was a tense silence that stretched on and pounded in Renly's ears. He sighed. Trust Stannis to produce such an unsightful daughter.

Jon Arryn came to the rescue. “You forget dornish custom, Grand Maester, it is Princess Arianne who we must concern ourselves with. It is she who will inherit Sunspear.”

Stannis' jaw visibly relaxed.

“Arianne is as of yet unpromised,” Varys giggled as if there was something rather exciting about this revelation. “Though Prince Doran has entertained many _many_ suitors these past few years.” He paused tantalisingly and Renly leant forward slightly to hear him contunue.

“And I suppose you're going to tell us who?” Lord Baelish said dryly as Varys' silence dragged on. 

“Old men,” Varys said stoically. “The likes of Hugh Grandison, Ben Beesbury, Eldon Estermont, even our beloved _Walder Frey_.”

Lord Baelish laughed. “Lucky girl.”

Renly grinned, nodding. “Lord Eldon must be getting on for seventy, and Hugh Grandison is as unbearable as he is old.” He remembered well his dealings with Lord Grandison after Loras had all but sliced his youngest son's arm off in the training yard; it had taken every last drop of his charm to make the elderly lord accept that he wouldn't be dismissing Loras over the incident.

“Quite.” Varys giggled. “It shouldn't be too difficult to offer someone altogether more appealing for our young princess.”

“The crown prince?” Lord Baelish suggested. “If we were to change our plans for a union with the North.”

“Too young for er.” Robert grunted. “She'd be past it by the time Joffrey was old enough to get an heir on her.” He trailed off, his eyes falling on Renly and smirking slightly.

Renly bit back a sigh. This wasn't the first time that such an idea had been brought up in his memory. He could do without it, however, being brought up quite now. Whilst Robert would have a hard time trying to force him to wed against his wishes, it was a trouble Renly couldn't be bothered with. In all likelyhood his brother wouldn't understand why Renly wasn't interested in wedding the Princess whom everyone said was beautiful and who was to inherit everything south of the Red Mountains, and that could lead to a lot of awkward questions, Renly thought. He sighed, thoughtful. There had even been a time when Renly himself hadn't thought the prospect of such a union so very terrible; the dornish liberalism would ensure he wasn't ridiculed as he might be elsewhere. But that had been before Loras. Now, however, now he meant to avoid marriage as long as he possibly could. 

Thankfully Robert didn't say anything further and Renly let out a sigh of relief as Pycelle began to speak, drawing Robert's attention away from him.

“I still think a royal visit might be sufficient, if his grace were to honour them with his presence, then-”

“Lord Renly, you are to be spending the next few days Highgarden are you not?” Varys interrupted the old maester's ramblings, his tone suspiciously innocent.

Renly nodded and decided not to ask how Varys could possibly know that. He hoped it had everything to do with his discussion with Garlan at the feast and nothing to do with the letter Loras had recently sent him. He was suddenly glad that Loras had been sensible enough to not put his name to it. “Yes I am." He laughed. "Garlan Tyrell is getting married.”

“Ah yes, to the lovely Lady Leonette.” Lord Baelish said pleasantly.

Varys continued, a small smile on his face. “It would not be implausible to continue south from there lord Renly, to cross the Dornish Marches.”

Robert laughed heartily. “A good suggestion. Send Renly.” He turned to Renly, still rumbling with laughter. “I hear you're good at feasting and using fancy words.”

Renly gave a weak smile. “I try.”

Robert clapped him on the shoulder.”That's settled then. Jon, make the arrangements.” He leant forward to grunt in Renly's ear. “I hear that princess is a right little minx too.”

Renly just laughed, not knowing what to say to that really. He had no real objection to visiting Dorne; the kingdom was supposed to be beautiful in parts. Most like by the time he got back, Robert would have forgotten all about this princess anyway. It suited his plans well enough too. He had intended on travelling west back up to Storm's End on his return from Highgarden to Kings Landing, for his things still needed to be brought to the capital and his household decided upon. At the moment he was still living in the guest rooms in the Red Keep whilst his permanent rooms were being done up. A visit to Dorne would fit in well enough with his plans; it would be easy enough to take the Prince's Pass back up into the Stormlands before heading back to the capital. 

He sighed though as he returned to his chambers to write to Penrose about the changed arrangements. He could only hope though that the Red Viper would be away from Sunspear during his visit, he would be very much obliged if the gods were kind enough to not force him to endure Prince Oberyn's company again. 

…................................................................

Renly left for Highgarden a few days later. Seeing as both Garlan and Loras had invited him to do so, he would be arriving almost a week and a half before the actual wedding would be held and from what Renly could deduce from Loras' last last few letters, he was going to be dragged all over the Reach. It seemed Loras wanted to show him everything, the citadel down in Oldtown, the Whispering Sound at the mouth of the Honeywine river, even the gardens in Ashford that he had once so rudely described as merely _tolerable._ As far as Renly was concerned, however, Loras could drag him wherever he bloody well liked. 

It was early afternoon when Renly arrived in Highgarden, and he could see instantly why Loras had found Storm's End rather dreary. The castle rose up in white stone against the horizon, its turrets splendid against the summer sky. Orchards stretched out beneath its southern walls and whilst Renly tried to keep track of all the different fruits he passed, he soon found that he lost count. The very air too seemed perfumed somehow, and after the stench of the capital, Renly thought it simply heavenly.

It was the gardens, however, that truly took Renly's breath away. Roses seemed to grow everywhere, trailing over the archways they rode under and winding their branches around the iron of the gates they passed through, a flurry of petals flying up into the air every time a gust of wind swept by. Renly breathed in their scent as he passed, trying to decide which one he thought the most magnificent. A red one that grew by the side of one of the numerous fountains and had large full petals was a contender, but Renly found himself particularly taken by a pure white one, whose petals seemed to shine as if with a light of their own in the afternoon sun. 

An escort of guards were sent were sent to greet him at the inner gates but Renly was disappointed to see that Loras wasn't amongst them, nor yet Ser Garlan. They were very aimiable, however, Renly found, leading his horse away to the stables for him and praising what good time he'd made: apparently he hadn't been expected till evening. Renly only grinned. He wasn't surprised in the slightest. In his eageress to see Loras, he'd barely stopped for more than ten minutes at a time. 

Lord and Lady Tyrell, however, were waiting for him on the steps up into the castle, and they seemed genuinely pleased to see him. A young man stood behind them, leaning heavily on a stick. He imagined him to be Willas, Loras' eldest sibling. He had the same curly hair that Loras did and a kind, clever sort of face, Renly thought, rather like a less haughty version of Loras with soft quiet eyes instead of the insolent vivacious ones his youngest brother had.  

Indeed shortly Lord Mace introduced him as such, putting a hand on Willas' shoulder and telling Renly proudly that his eldest son bred the finest horses in the seven kingdoms.

The young man seemed slightly embarrassed at that, but smiled warmly at him all the same before he made to lead Renly inside. His pace was slow, his right leg dragging behind him slightly as he limped along.  

Renly tried not to stare, instead trying to take in everything they passed as Willas led him through a few archways and into yet more gardens. The arrangements were even more magnificent inside the castle walls, yet what really surprised Renly was how quiet Highgarden seemed to be. From what Loras had told him of his home, Renly had expected it to be busy, full of people milling about, but whilst they passed a few serving girls and a handful of guards at their posts, for the most part it seemed to be all but deserted. 

“Highgarden is rather more quiet than I expected.” He said conversationally to Willas. 

Willas laughed quietly, smiling. “Usually it is much busier. Most are down in the training yard at the moment."  He sighed softly. "It seems you've picked quite a moment to arrive. Its quite the excitement today.”

Renly grinned. “What's the cause of excitement?”

Willas smiled. “My younger brothers have taken it into their heads to challenge each other. They've spent so long bickering over which one of them is the better sword, that finally our sister told them to get it over with and see or else pack it in. ”

Renly laughed. “Loras is fighting Garlan?”

“Indeed.” Willas smiled, his eyes creasing slightly. “We can go and watch if you would like?”

Renly grinned and nodded without a second thought, following Willas along the path until they came upon a large grassy area. There was indeed a large crowd gathered as Willas had told him there would be, and whilst they were still some way off, Renly could see the two brothers from here. 

Garlan was standing nearest, the lovely Leonette pinning a flower she had just plucked from the flowerbeds onto his cloak. Loras, meanwhile, was stood next to a petite girl who, judging from the curly hair cascading down her back, was also a Tyrell, though whether this was the fabled Margaery or merely one of his cousins, Renly couldn't tell. He couldn't see her particularly well, part obscured by the crowd as she was, but she seemed to be doing as Leonette had been, and indeed soon Loras had a rose too pinned to his cloak.

They were both lightly armoured but wore no helms and as they began to circle each other, they looked rather similar, one a smaller, more delicate version of the other. 

“Would you like me to introduce you to everyone?” Willas asked as they neared, taking a seat on a nearby bench and stretching his injured leg out.

Renly smiled. “It can wait until after they've finished. I don't want to interrupt.”  
  
Indeed, he watched intently as the two siblings continued to walk in circles around each other, a look of pure determination on Loras' face but a slight grin on his older brother's. It was Loras who started it, closing the gap between them in the blink of an eye and bringing his sword whistling past his brother's ear. Garlan merely sidestepped easily, as if he'd had all the time in the world to think about where he was going to move, rather than a few split seconds. Loras, however, seemed unfazed by his brother's easy evasion and spun round to face him again, his footwork just as neat as his brothers. He had Garlan on the defensive now, and soon the elder Tyrell was taking small paces backwards, Loras' sword pushing him back step by step.   
  
Renly was beginning to think Loras had this in the bag when Garlan grinned and, parrying one of Loras' blows, whipped round to force Loras back the way he had come. It was now Loras taking those small steps backwards, retreating as quickly as Garlan could make him. Indeed, Garlan seemed now to have the upper hand, although Loras appeared to be most definitely holding his own. Renly sighed as he watched him. The last few times he'd seen Loras fight, he'd felt almost sick to the stomach, fearing that one of those sharpened blades might find it's target all too well. It was strangly reassuring though to watch Loras with Garlan. For all both Tyrell brother's evident skill, clearly neither of them would allow themselves to hurt the other. 

They were very well matched, Renly thought, and had he had to make a bet, he wouldn't have known which of the two to place his money on. Garlan was clearly the more physically powerful of the two, but Loras seemed the quicker of the two, and he appeared to be holding his own well. They were most beautiful to watch, Renly thought. Loras in particular was unbelievably graceful, moving elegantly, his sword seeming to be nothing more than an extension of his arm. For a moment indeed it seemed almost as if the like two Tyrells were dancing, the singing of steel on steel providing their rhythm. 

The spell was broken by one of the girls calling Loras' name, calling him on. Leonette responded in kind, cheering her husband-to-be from the side, her hands clapsed together as if praying. Garlan grinned at this, and doubled his efforts. Renly was just wondering how Loras would react if he called out his name, whether he would be spurred on like Garlan had been with Leonette, or whether he would be so startled he'd miss a step, when there was a sudden clash of steel. 

The next thing Renly knew Loras was on the floor, Garlan laughing loudly before he extended a hand and pulled his younger brother back to his feet. “Not bad” He said, clapping Loras on the back. “You were almost decent sport.”

Loras scowled and rolled his eyes at his brother.

Renly laughed at his sour expression and it was then that Loras seemed to notice him standing next to the brother that hadn't just put him in his place. His expression changed instantly and Loras all but ran over, still panting slightly from the exertion of the fight. 

“When did you get here?” He asked breathlessly, his eyes shining. For a moment, Renly was sure he was going to launch himself at him. Instead he merely patted his arm rather awkwardly as any friend might, and beamed up at him.

Renly laughed. “About... half an hour ago perhaps. Just in time to see you and Garlan put on quite the show.”

Loras rolled his eyes. “And you've evidently been introduced to Willas?”

Renly nodded, turning slightly smiling at the older man sat on the bench.

“Come meet Margaery?”

It had been phrased as a question but Renly knew there was only one acceptable response. He took a deep breath before answering. “I'd love to” He laughed nervously as Loras grabbed his arm and all but dragged him over to where a young girl was standing, indeed the one that had pinned the flower on Loras as he had suspected.

Renly however did a double take when he got closer. Margaery looked so much like her younger brother that, had he not known better, Renly would have sworn they were twins. Indeed, they looked far more alike than Cersei and Jaime Lannister did. She had the same lazy brown ringlets that he did, identical down to the one unruly curl that refused to stay tucked behind her ear and even her eyes were the same, the exact same mix of liquid gold and hazel that Renly adored so much in her brother. Renly had to stop himself staring. Loras had loved nothing more than to talk about his cherished sister, and yet not once had Loras ever mentioned how alike they looked. He found it rather disconcerting.

She smiled up at him with Loras' eyes. “It's lovely to finally meet you. Loras has told me ever so much about you.” There was no malice in her tone and yet Renly found himself wondering whether that had been a veiled threat. Indeed, Loras had probably told her more about him than he would ever have liked. He knew it was probably all in his mind though and so he tried not to dwell on it. 

He laughed, determined to make a good impression on the girl Loras evidently adored. "Loras has told me lots of you too." 

She smiled, her cheeks dimpling as she glanced rather irritatingly fondly over at Loras. "I suspect he's told you the most dreadful things about me."

"Definitely not." Renly laughed. Indeed Loras had only ever told him nice things about Margaery. In fact, it had often used to irritate him that Loras seemed never to have a bad word to say about his sister.

“Loras.” Willas called his youngest brother's name before Margaery could reply, and they all turned to look at him. “Lord Renly must be tired from the road. Why don't you offer to show him to his chambers?”

Loras rolled his eyes at him, before turning back to Renly, an image of politeness all of a sudden that Renly had no trouble seeing through. "Sorry, it seems I've quite forgotten my manners. Would you like me to show you to your chambers?"  
  
Renly grinned. He would quite like to change out of the clothes he'd worn on the road. "That would be lovely." 

Loras laughed and through an archway and into a shaded grove. It was cool here, a large fountain trickling pleasantly in the background. 

Renly turned to Loras as they walked. "You fought well."

Loras sighed. "Not well enough."

“You looked like you were holding your own for most of it.” Renly said, not being able to resist brushing his fingers against Loras'. 

Loras frowned and stopped in the shade of a large willow tree, looking round before taking a step towards Renly, standing on tiptoes and resting his head on Renly's shoulder, arms round Renly's waist. He was silent for a few moments before he glanced up, an odd expression on his face. “He was toying with me Renly.” He said eventually and very quietly, the usual haughtiness gone from his voice. “He could have probably ended it in minutes.”

Renly took a step back, staring at him, mouth open. “I'm sorry but unless I'm sorely mistaken Loras Tyrell just admitted he was outmatched." He laughed. "Pinch me I must be dreaming!”

Loras rolled his eyes and shoved Renly slightly. “When have I ever withheld anything from you?”

“I guess that's true” Renly smiled.

“I've missed you.” Loras said suddenly, placing a hand on Renly's arm.

“I've missed you too.” Renly whispered back, and seeing as Loras seemed to judge this grove private enough for such small gestures of affection, he chanced to reach up and touch his cheek. He'd missed Loras more than Loras could ever know. 


	54. Chapter 54

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the week long gap... Unfortunately been in France trying to find accommodation for my year abroad and it isn't going very well. It's very likely thus that this will be on hiatus for the next two weeks. Will hopefully resume as normal when I'm back in the UK though :)

Several flights of stairs later and exhausted already from the day's riding, Renly collapsed heavily onto a chair in his what was to be his chambers for the next fortnight. Glancing around, he was pleased to note that the servants had evidently just been and gone before them: his things had been sent up and a tub full of hot water stood by the window.

Loras had remained in the doorway, watching Renly get his breath back with an amused look on his face.

Renly smiled up at him, laughing. “I didn't expect it to be so high up?”

Loras grinned, leaning back against the door frame lazily. “Well, usually we house guests in the lower rooms. Nobody lives up here you see.” He laughed. “But I told my parents you liked good views,” He gestured around the room. “and so here we are.”

Renly rolled his eyes. He didn't need to ask quite why Loras was so keen for him to be given a room with a decent amount of privacy. “Did it convince them?” Personally, he had his doubts.

His lack of confidence must have shown on his face for Loras shrugged rather defensively and laughed. “To be fair, the view _is_ lovely up here.” He smirked. “Besides, I thought it was a whole lot better than telling them I wanted you to have a room where we could fuck in peace. Because that was what I was originally going to go with.”

Renly laughed. “I see.” He ran a hand through his hair, finding it rather tangled from the road. “Then it's probably for the best that you went for the good view option.” He sighed. “You do know you woke poor Penrose up that morning you left. I was mortified.” Indeed, Renly found his cheeks reddening merely from the memory.

Loras raised an eyebrow at his expression and laughed. “It's only Penrose, in fact, it gives me great pleasure to know that I made his morning a misery.”

Renly sighed. “We'd best be glad it was only Penrose. Next time we might not be so fortunate-”

Loras rolled his eyes mid-sentence. “I see you miss reprimanding me already?” He crossed the room and sat down by Renly's feet, leaning his head back against Renly's lap and looking up at him, his hair falling over his eyes. “I had hoped you'd give me at least a few days before you started lecturing me.”

Renly laughed and leant down to kiss him, upside down as Loras was. He was just about to twist Loras round to face him so he could kiss him properly when Loras got to his feet, hauling Renly up with him. Renly grinned, letting Loras guide him to wherever he wanted him and preparing himself for three weeks of pent up frustration. He was surprised thus when Loras merely grabbed his wrist and pulled him over to the window.

“I've so much to show you.” He undid the clasp on the windows and threw them open, gesturing about and listing off various places Renly had vaguely heard of. The view was indeed glorious, looking over the orchards that lay beneath the castle walls, the River Mander cutting its lazy path through the fruit laden fields. And from the snippets he actually caught of what Loras was saying, Renly assumed he was looking north-east to Cider Hall and Ashford, and feeling suddenly nostalgic, realised that had it been possible to see that far, the walls of Storm's End would have been visible against the horizon.

“Are you even listening?” Loras' voice brought him out of his thoughts, an expression halfway between fondness and annoyance on his face.

Renly laughed. “I'm afraid you'll have to repeat yourself. But can you slow down this time? I barely caught a word.”

Loras sighed impatiently before he was off again, slightly more slowly this time. Renly had been right to think they were looking north-east, and indeed the small holdfast that lay some miles across the fields of orchards, still along the banks of the river, was Cider Hall, the ancient seat of the Fossoways. Craning then to the left, the glinting turrets of Goldengrove were also visible, apparently, as Loras duly told him, hiding the Red Lake behind its walls. There were less orchards in this direction, instead what seemed to be open fields, green and lush grasses, strewn with wildflowers. It was undeniably beautiful and again Renly found himself being unsurprised Loras had found Storm's End and its weather rather dreary.

Renly grinned when Loras seemed to have run out of steam. “So are these all the places you'll be taking me then?”

Loras nodded. “But first I want to show you Highgarden properly.” He grabbed Renly's wrist again and made to drag him over to the door.

Renly laughed. “Alright alright. But first let me take a bath and change?”

Loras' grip didn't loosen on Renly's wrist but he stopped tugging him over to the door. “Alright.” He said reluctantly. “But can you not take six hours to get ready like you sometimes do?”

Renly laughed. “As if you can talk.” As far as he was concerned Loras was equally guilty of deliberating that little bit too long over what clothes to choose. All the same though, he stepped out of his clothes as quickly as possible and into the tub.

Loras meanwhile went to sit on Renly's bed, propped up on his elbow and watching him impatiently.

“You know,” Renly grinned as he sloshed the water over his hair. “I was expecting you to be rather impatient for other things.”

 Loras laughed. “Later. We've all the time in the world for that, and I want to show you Highgarden before the light goes.” And with that, he got off the bed and walked to the chest of drawers where Renly's clothes had already been laid out by the servants. Rifling intently through the fabrics, Loras grabbed a few garments and carelessly tossed them onto the bed.

 “There,” he laughed as Renly stepped out of the tub and began to dry himself. “Get dressed. I want to show you around properly before dinner.”

….............

In the end, there wasn't long before dinner, and Renly found himself almost running to keep up with Loras' fast-paced tour around the castle. He lost track of the various gardens Loras led him through and was rather surprised when he found himself back in the central courtyard. He'd been convinced they'd been walking in the other direction.

“It's like a maze in here.” Renly jested. “How do you ever find your way around?”

Loras shrugged, grinning. “Storm's End is bigger.”

“I guess it is.” Renly mused. “But there's not quite so many winding passageways in Storm's End, nor hundreds of gardens, and hedged paths that make it impossible to see where you're going.”

Loras laughed. “It's just because you don't know it well. I had hell trying to get around Storm's End in the beginning. I used to always end up somehow down by the pantries.”

That surprised Renly. Even as a child, Loras had been overly sure of himself, and not once had he ever admitted to getting lost at the time. “I never noticed?”

Loras shrugged. “I was very good at pretending I knew my way around.” He laughed. “That's why I used to follow you around so much. More often than not, I had no idea where I was going and it was easier to follow you than try to work it out myself.”

Renly laughed. “I never knew.”

Loras smirked. “I could make a list a foot long of things that you never notice.” He laughed. “Something has to be staring you in the face before you even begin to notice.”

Renly began to protest at that, but found himself hushing when he saw that Loras had led them to one of the dining chambers and that lord and lady Tyrell had just rounded the corner, dressed for dinner and accompanied by a couple that Renly vaguely recognised as having been at the tourney he'd hosted back in Storm's End. Leonette followed closely behind on Garlan's arm and so had he had to take a guess, Renly would have assumed the lord and lady whose identity he couldn't remember to be her parents.

Indeed, they soon introduced themselves again as Lord and Lady Fossoway, though whether they were of the green apple branch or the red apple one remained a mystery still. Renly contemplated asking, but thought perhaps that having already met them once before, it was perhaps a little late to admit that he had no clue. Besides, even if he said so himself, Renly had to say that he had a way with people, and making lords and ladies think that he remembered who they were was one of those things that he found came naturally to him.

Dinner was a small affair, consisting only of himself, the Tyrells and the Fossoways who had, as Leonette's father told him excitedly as they went to sat down, been helping Mace and Alerie with the wedding arrangements for the last two weeks.

Renly didn't know what to make of where he had been placed. On one hand, he was relieved to see had been placed next to Willas who he imagined would do his best to make him feel welcome. On the other hand however, the little old lady who had been placed to his right between him and Margaery made him feel downright nervous.

Thankfully it was Willas, however, who turned to him first as the starters were brought in. “I hear you're en route to Dorne?” He asked, smiling.

Renly laughed. “Yes, to Sunspear.”

 “Have you ever been before?”

Renly shook his head. “Unfortunately not. I've crossed the border briefly a few times near Summerhall, but I don't think that counts. Have you?”

Willas too shook his head. “Never. I know the Martells passably well despite that though. I expect they'll be very hospitable.”

Renly nodded politely. He'd only met one of the Martells to date, and whilst Renly could think of many words to describe the Red Viper, hospitable would hardly have been on his list. “Do you see much of the Martells then?”

Willas looked thoughtful. “Not much.” He eventually said. “I exchange letters with Prince Oberyn occasionally, and a few moons back he sent me a stallion to make use of, but I'd hardly say that amounts to seeing m-

He was interrupted by Loras who had turned around, scowling. “You should have sent it back. As if we'd want anything dornish here.”

Willas laughed, a quiet thoughtful laugh that was quite different to any sound Loras could have made.

It was Garlan whoever that spoke. “Ignore him lord Renly, I dare say he'll be singing a different tune when the Serpent's sand steed is the fastest horse in our stables and he wants to ride it in the lists.” He laughed, ruffling Loras' hair. “I don't know how you managed with him as your squire.”

Renly laughed and merely grinned as both Lord Mace and Leonette's father began reminiscing about their own days as squires. Renly didn't catch the names of either of the lords they had squired with, but from what he did catch, he worked out that Loras' father had squired alongside Paxter Redwyne, first cousin to Mace and now lord of the Arbour.

It was then that the old lady beside him spoke, laughing haughtily. “If only your cousin had been able to knock some sense into you. He at least has a sensible head on his shoulders. What with how much fuss there's been over this wedding, I'm beginning to think I raised an incompetent fool.”

Lord Mace blustered at that, but most of his family laughed, Garlan the loudest.

“Let father alone Grandmother.” He jested, before winking at the Fossoways and at Renly. “We have guests.”

“Very well.” She laughed a mocking laugh, putting her hand on her granddaughters arm and turning to Renly. “I suppose we should introduce ourselves then, seeing as the son I raised appears either too rude or too incompetent to do so himself.”

Lady Olenna.” Renly smiled and took her hand. “It's a pleasure.”

“Yes, that is my name.” She raised one of her thinning wispy eyebrows and looked him up and down. “I suppose I should commend you on remembering it.”

Renly felt his cheeks redden slightly. “It's an honour to meet you.”

“Is that so?” She picked up her napkin with a flourish, age-spotted hands moving more quickly than Renly would have expected from such an elderly lady. The next moment however, she seemed as frail as he might have expected, leaning in and cupping her hand to her ear to hear his reply.

Renly laughed rather nervously. “I've heard ever so much about you.”

 “Indeed.” She turned to Margaery on her right. “Remind your half-daft grandmother what it is that they call me dear?”

Margaery laughed. “The Queen of Thorns grandmother.”

“Ah yes the Queen of Thorns. Fancy me forgetting. I'm getting silly in my old age” She folded those wrinkled soft hands of hers in her lap. “So lord Renly, enlighten a poor old lady, do I live up to my reputation?”

Renly laughed. “Umm”

“Stop tormenting our guests grandmother” Margaery laughed, patting her hand. “You'll scare the guests off for the wedding.”

She sighed. “It seems an old lady can't say anything these days. ” She smiled, turning back to Renly. “So tell me lord Renly, was my grandson a decent squire?”

Renly laughed. “He was my lady, or else I wouldn't have knighted him.”

She laughed. “Perhaps. But competence and knighthood often don't go hand in hand lord Renly. “She glanced pointedly in her son's direction. “I dare say many a boy has been knighted, not for their prowess, but because their lord can't stand the sight of them any longer.”

Renly grinned. “I can well believe it.”

“So which one was it?” She ignored Loras' scowl from across the table. “Prowess or simply a running out of one's patience?” She popped a grape into her mouth. “Or who's to say it can't be both.”

Renly laughed. “What with Loras but two seats away, I dare say there's only one acceptable answer to that.”

 She glanced over at her grandson before turning back to him. “I suppose you're right lord Renly” She said. “Polite society does have a tendency of making conversation terribly dull.”

 Renly grinned. He wasn't sure what to make of Loras' grandmother at all. On one hand, she seemed like every elderly lady, frail and wizened, and with no teeth left with which to chew, but equally, Renly didn't think he'd ever met anyone with as quite as sharp a tongue.

He found her challenging of wits rather amusing though and by the end of dinner had decided she was quite entertaining if nothing else. And for all her mocking, she seemed too to be a doting grandmother. She hardly moved her hand from Margaery's arm, and it was quite clear that the young girl was her pride and joy.

In fact, as the evening progressed, it was Margaery who set Renly more on edge than her sharp witted grandmother. Finding it rather unnerving that she was most likely aware of the rather peculiar relations between himself and her brother, Renly didn't know quite what to say to her. It was quite unlike himself, and whilst he made an effort, often he'd find himself turning to her to speak and then failing to summon anything. He didn't know whether to assume that she thought him degenerate for such relations with Loras, or distasteful, or disgusting. Or whether she was as understanding as Loras seemed to imply she would be.

Although Renly loathed to admit it to himself, what unnerved him most perhaps about the beautiful girl two seats along was that in Loras' sister, he had finally met one of his own, one of those rare individuals who knew how to charm and lie their way through the courts without most people batting an eyelid, and this one was now giving him a taste of his own medicine. Her mask was flawless, and although Renly tried incessantly to guess what she was thinking, he came up blank every time.

It was exhausting, and Renly was rather relieved when dinner was over and he could excuse himself to his chambers. He was unsurprised when Loras accompanied him, making a show of heading in the direction of his and then looping back round.

It was only when they were safely back in Renly's chambers with the door locked firmly behind them that Loras did what Renly had been expecting him to do all afternoon, unbuttoning his doublet and knotting his hands in Renly's hair. What he hadn't expected though was quite how uncharacteristically gentle Loras was. There was no impatience in Loras' touch and instead, he seemed to be purposefully taking his time, kissing a slow path across Renly's shoulders whilst his hands traced slow purposeful circles against Renly's chest.

Renly sighed deeply, torn between wanting to push Loras' hands further down and wanting to fall asleep under Loras' kisses. He half-closed his eyes, the light from the now setting sun making the room glow a vivid amber.

It was indeed rather sleepily that Renly registered Loras eventually guiding himself into his lap and sinking slowly down on to him. And whilst his heart was pounding and every nerve tingling by the time Loras had finished with him, he was hard pressed to stop himself falling asleep against him then and there.

Loras laughed softly, pushing Renly's hair out of his eyes. “Are you tired Renly?” he teased.

Renly nodded sleepily. “It seems I'm getting old, too old to ride all day it seems and still be awake at the end of the day.”

Loras smiled and rolled over onto his side, leaning his head against Renly's chest and gazing absent-mindedly down at him.

Renly watched him for a while, tracing the patterns the fading sunlight was drawing with Loras' hair in his mind's eye and putting an arm around his waist.

“What you thinking?” Renly asked after a time.

Loras glanced up, looking rather dazed. “What?”

“I was asking what you were thinking?”

 “Oh.” Loras laughed softly, the light making his curls shimmer as he moved. “I couldn't possibly tell you.”

“Please?” Renly gave what he hoped was his most charming smile.

Loras sighed. “Fine.” He rolled his eyes. “If you must know, I was trying to decide what my favourite part of you is.”

Renly laughed. He hadn't been expecting that. “And?”

Loras bit down on his lower lip. “It's a hard decision.” He laughed and moved to sit astride Renly's hips. “There's so much to choose from. But-” He leant down to kiss Renly's neck. “Apart from your eyes, they're the obvious choice of course, I think I'd have to go with here.” He moved downwards to mouth at Renly's collarbone, kissing a path from one shoulder to the other.

“There?” Renly laughed, Loras' curls tickling his neck. “Of all places why there?”

Loras glanced up. “I don't know? Do I have to have a reason?”

Renly grinned. “I guess not.” He laughed. “But it would have been nice.”

 Loras pressed one last kiss to the hollow at the base of Renly's throat before sitting up, propping himself up on his elbow. “Well I can give you a reason for the eyes. Would that please you?”

 Renly nodded, feeling no shame in quite how self indulgent this conversation was for him. He'd spent the last fortnight fearing that Loras would have found something new to play with and this was a nice change from his expectations.

Loras smiled. “It's because I can never decide what colour they are.”

Renly laughed. “They're blue.”

 “I know that now.” Loras rolled his eyes. “But for years I thought they were green.”

 Renly grinned. “Is that why you love me then, because my eyes change colour?”

Loras raised an eyebrow. “Don't be stupid.”

“Then why then?” Renly pressed.

 Loras shrugged. “I don't know. Lots of reasons?” He bit down again on his lower lip. “It's hard to explain and I'm not very good with words.”

“Well try for me?” Renly couldn't help but ask, despite knowing that this was the sort of thing Loras would loathe to be made to do.

“Alright then.” Loras ran a hand through his hair and leant back against Renly's chest.“Because you make me laugh? And because you're kind?” He laughed. “I can knock people off horses very well, but I could never be like you even if I tried.”

 Renly laughed. “You're very kind to me. You put up with me for starters.”

“Obviously I am to you.” Loras rolled his eyes. “I care about you. But I can be very spiteful sometimes, in a way you could never be.” He grinned. “l like taking revenge too much.”

Renly laughed. He couldn't argue with that really.


	55. Chapter 55

Neither he nor Loras must have remembered to draw the curtains before turning in for the night for Renly found himself awoken the next morning by the sunlight streaming in through the windows, bathing the room in a golden light.

It was a rather pretty effect Renly thought sleepily as he pushed the covers back and sat up, and yet he would have perhaps preferred it had it not been responsible for awakening him at an hour far too early to be considered reasonable by anyone's standards.

As it happened though, Loras was already up and sitting on the window ledge, gazing absent-mindedly out at the fields below. He seemed surprised when Renly called his name, as if he too perhaps thought the hour far too early for there to be much chance of Renly being awake.

"Come back to bed?" Renly yawned, patting the bedcovers beside him. The morning was a mild one despite the sunlight and Loras had evidently been up for some time as the bed was already cold next to him.

Loras laughed and came to beside him, letting Renly move him around as he pleased until he'd managed to make a decent pillow out of him. Despite his efforts, Loras made a rather hard pillow Renly thought, which probably had something to do with the fact that Loras was all muscle and with not an inch of fat on him. On the other hand though, he was decently warm and was prone to running his hands through Renly's hair when he lay like this which Renly supposed was an added bonus you didn't get from most pillows.

Indeed after a few moments, Loras' hands had migrated to his hair, twirling bits around his finger as if somehow to try and make it curly like his own.

Renly sighed contently and whilst Loras was doing that, glanced absent-mindedly about the room. It was a lovely room and Renly thought he might lay out his own chambers similarly when he returned to Kings Landing. Yawning, he wondered how those rooms were coming along. He'd been given a spacious set of rooms of the ground floor of the Red Keep with space for his household servants and any guests he might wish to entertain. They had belonged to the previous master of laws before him who had evidently had rather poor taste Renly thought. As such, they were being redone; wonderfully ornate furniture being carved in the Street of Wood to take the place of the dull pieces that were already there, and heavy rugs and tapestries replacing the threadbare gaudy monstrosities that his predecessor had presumingly found charming. Even the servants quarters were being done up despite the fact that Renly had of yet little idea what arrangements were being made on that front. Those who wanted to, he supposed he would bring from Storm's End, leaving Penrose instead of himself with the rather arduous task of finding new staff.

He was just contemplating who he was going to choose to form his personal Kings Landing guard when Loras leant down to kiss his hair, interrupting his train of thought.

"Fancy going to sit outside until breakfast?" Loras asked, removing his hand from Renly's hair.

Renly pondered the question before answering. Usually he would have been of the opinion that it was far too early to leave one's bedchambers and yet he was awake now, and the morning did seem a rather too glorious one to waste. Loras was going to take him to Oldtown today and so it couldn't really hurt to get an early start. The ride would take near the whole morning and so they would be staying the night in an inn before returning the following afternoon. Loras had offered to take him to Hightower to stay with his grandfather which whilst it had been a tempting proposal, Renly had decided wasn't for the best seeing as the elderly lord's health was rumoured to be rapidly failing.

He yawned and sat up. "Why not then" he laughed, getting to his feet in search of some clothes, making a note to try and choose his outfit quickly in an attempt to not try Loras' impatience.

A good half hour later and with Loras muttering under his breath about how anyone could possibly take so long deciding what to wear when there wasn't an ugly garment in his entire wardrobe, they descended the many flights of stairs that led down from Renly's room.

The morning air was surprisingly chilly and Renly wondered briefly whether he ought to go back and put warmer clothes on before thinking perhaps that it was unwise to wind Loras up any further.

It indeed was a beautiful morning though, and Renly found himself looking forward to their ride to Oldtown as Loras led them along the path. The gardens looked quite different at this time for the flowers were only just opening, their petals glistening with the morning dew and sparkling in the sunlight.

The garden Loras took him to was one that Renly hadn't seen before but that he thought might be his favourite one yet. It was more private than most of the others they had been to on his rather hurried tour of Highgarden yesterday, for it was completely surrounded by walls on all sides, the greater part of which seemed to be covered in what Renly thought to be jasmine.

Unlike most of the rest of the grounds, which seemed to have multitudes of interlinking paths and archways, the only entrance into this garden appeared to be the wrought iron gate set into the eastern wall which Loras had just led him through. The flowers were just as lovely in here but what Renly really liked was the fact that in this garden there was not one but two swings, though both of very different sorts it seemed. One was the sort of swing a child might enjoy, suspended with rope from the branch of a very sturdy looking Beech tree that stood in the centre of the garden. For all it's ornate design, this swing seemed little more really than a plank of wood big enough perhaps for two rather small people to sit on. The other was more of a permanent structure, free-standing and made entirely of wood, with a proper seat that had a back and cushions and probably swung rather gently. It was hinged to several wooden pillars which somebody had evidently trained yet more jasmine up.

"That was built for my mother when she married my father." Loras said, following his gaze. "I warn you, it's terribly dull." He laughed. "We can sit on it though if you like?"

Renly grinned. "I'd love to." And following Loras he took a seat on the swing that had been built for Alerie Hightower just after she'd become a Tyrell. It indeed did move very slowly as Loras had warned, but Renly found it rather a pleasing experience, very gentle and quite likely to lull him to sleep if he let it.

He gestured to the other swing. "And what about this one."

Loras laughed. "That one was built for Margaery because she thought it terribly unfair that father had had a swing built for mother and not her. That one's more exciting. Goes quite high if you do it properly or get someone to push you."

Renly smiled. He could imagine Loras' sister sitting on the carved seat with her hair streaming behind her and one of her brothers pushing her. "Do both you and Margaery ever go on it together? He asked. "It looks like it might be big enough."

"We used to." Loras laughed. "Haven't done for years though. Not since I left to come to you."

"Do you think it would still hold?" Renly asked.

"I'm not sure we'd fit anymore but it would probably hold the weight." Loras grinned. "Father's a bit silly when it comes to Margaery. That rope's what they use on the masts of Paxter Redwyne's ships, proper sturdy stuff. And I don't know if he still does, but he used to have it changed twice annually just in case it had weakened."

Renly laughed. "I suppose she's his only girl and the youngest of the lot of you. I suppose he can't help worrying."

"True. But sometimes I do wonder whether he knows my sister at all. She's perfectly capable of standing on her own two feet."

Renly smiled. He could well believe that of Loras' sister. For a thirteen year old, she seemed unnervingly self-assured, rather like Loras he supposed, come to think of it. He sighed, glancing about the garden once more. "I think this would be one of my favourite places if I lived here."

"It's one of mine." Loras said, bringing his feet up and tucking them underneath him on the swing.

"But not your absolute favourite?"

"No." Loras grinned. "I show you my absolute favourite place when we've got more time. It's a bit out of the way, right down near the banks of the river."

"I look forward to it." Renly took advantage of the privacy the four walls granted them to press a kiss to Loras' mouth. "I know it's hardly comparable but did you have a favourite place back in Storm's End?"

Loras thought for a moment. "Probably up on the battlements" He said after a while.

"And why's that?"

"Because it's the furthest you can get from the water?" Loras laughed when Renly rolled his eyes. "I'm pulling your leg Renly. It's because it's private I guess. I used to go up there when Penrose was irritated at me which was all the time it seemed. And either he never thought to look for me there, or he couldn't be bothered to climb the stairs." He laughed. "Either way it got him off my back."

Renly laughed. "Probably more to do with the stairs than anything else. Penrose is more than familiar with the battlements. It was of my favourite hiding places too when I was a child." He grinned. "Not that he was ever trying to scold _me_." He laughed. "You know it will seem odd when I go back and you're not there. I can barely a remember a time before you came."

Loras came to lean against him. "I miss it you know. Even though you think it's dreary compared to here." He laughed wryly. "Often I wake up in the middle of the night and think I'm in your chambers back there. It's strange how the rooms I grew up in seems somehow more unfamiliar now than yours."

Renly smiled. That gave him a rather pleasant warm feeling in his chest to know that Loras missed the place Renly called home. All the same though, he couldn't resist the chance to wind Loras up a little. He grinned widely. "Is it so terrible then having to sleep on your own Loras?"

Loras rolled his eyes. "Don't start this again will you? I'm perfectly capable of sleeping on my own and you know it."

"That's not the impression I got." He grinned. "Do you wake up and get distressed when you realise I'm not there?" Renly teased.

Loras scowled and prodded Renly painfully in the ribs to let Renly know just what he thought of that notion.

Renly laughed and pulled him closer. "I'm jesting with you Loras."

Loras can't have actually been irritated for he let Renly wrap his arms around him and didn't pull away. Renly smiled and rested his chin on the top of Loras' head, closing his eyes. Loras' embrace was warm and coupled with the gentle swinging motion, Renly reckoned he must have dozed off, for what seemed like merely moments later, Loras was tapping him and telling him they'd stayed too long and they ought to get moving for breakfast.

Breakfast was a busy affair. Renly had chosen to take his morning meal in the dining chambers rather than privately in his rooms and it seemed that every cousin the Tyrells had had taken up residence in Highgarden. Whether this was in preparation for the wedding, or whether they always lived there, Renly couldn't tell. They were all very charming, greeting him with enthusiasm and wanting to hear all about what the Stormlands were like and telling him how exciting it was to meet someone who not only was on the small council but was an actual brother to the king himself.

The girls especially seemed particularly interested in him, and one among their number, a very young girl, probably not yet even into double figures in age, seemed so smitten with him that she blushed deeply every time he spoke to her. She seemed to be a particular friend of Margaery's and yet had not even a shred of the confidence the elder girl evidently had. Renly found her embarrassment rather sweet and yet he could see Loras biting back sarcastic remarks each time her cheeks flushed rosy and he had to fight the desperate urge to laugh.

They left straight from breakfast, as soon as the serving girls had finished packing them a lunch for the road and deliberately well before lord and lady Tyrell had descended from their chambers for the morning. This, Loras informed him, was on account of a small white lie Loras had apparently told them the night before. For whilst it was rather improper to swan off to Oldtown without an accompanying set of guards, Loras was adamant that he didn't want to be tailed around all day. As such, he confessed that he had told his parents that they would be taking Renly's retinue instead of a Highgarden one; the fact that he and Renly had no intention of doing any such thing would hopefully remain between the two of them.

The morning chill had faded as Loras led him to the stables through yet another garden that Renly had no recollection of seeing despite the fact that the stables was one of the first places he had seen.

"Is this the route I was taken before?" he asked.

"Probably not." Loras laughed. "This is the long way round. I'm avoiding anywhere my parents might be."

"I see." Renly grinned and was just about to ask him what his parents would do if they found Loras had been planning on disgracing the family honour by taking no retinue when Loras halted abruptly.

"We should hush here." he whispered. "Up ahead there's a bench in among the roses that you can't see from the path."

"And that's a problem?"

Loras laughed under his breath. "Grandmother likes to sit there and _spy_."

Renly resisted the urge to laugh and followed Loras who now had begun talking rather innocently about the weather. Sure enough, there was a little old lady nestled in among the flowers. She seemed however to be asleep.

Renly opened his mouth to say so but Loras shook his head vigorously and steered him quickly up the path. "That's what she does." he hissed when they were out of earshot and had arrived at the stables. "Pretends to be asleep, so she can _spy_."

Renly grinned and went to help Loras lead the horses out. "Does your grandmother do a lot of spying then?"

Loras grimaced even as he pulled his horse's bridle on. "Too much. I reckon she'd give that master of whispers a run for his money if you ask me."

Renly laughed and let Loras give him a leg up into the saddle. He had no doubt that Lady Olenna would indeed give lord Varys a run for his money if given a chance. She seemed a fiery lady and in many respects, far more capable than her son, and having now met her, Renly was quite sure that she probably did most of the string pulling in Highgarden.

It was a pleasant rise south east as they followed the Rose Road to it's end in Oldtown, passing fields and orchards as they went. Loras seemed to have no qualms about picking as much fruit as he pleased, leaning over the hedges at the side of the road at regular intervals and passing handfuls of fruit to Renly.

"Don't you feel guilty about stealing?" Renly asked, laughing.

Loras shrugged. "All of these fields belong to Brightwater. And seeing as stealing from the Florents is something that us Tyrells are supposedly good at, I see no reason to prove them wrong."

Renly laughed and rolled his eyes, quite aware that Loras was referring to the fact that as far as the Florents were concerned, the Tyrells had stolen Highgarden from them once the Gardeners had been wiped out during Aegon's Landing.

"We'd better stop soon though." Loras said thoughtfully. "It's getting hot and whilst this fruit that the Florents have kindly provided us with is lovely, I could really do with some lunch."

Renly had no issue with that, and so after a few minutes more riding, they dismounted and headed into one of the fields by the side of the road. This particular field appeared to have been left fallow and whilst no crops grew, there was such an abundance of wild-flowers that the field appeared as a patchwork of colour. Renly thought it a very pleasing place to have lunch.

Having tied the horses to a tree in the shade, it took them a while to find a suitable spot, pushing their way through long grass until Loras was satisfied with the place they had chosen.

Renly flattened his patch of grass before sitting down, quite at a loss to why Loras had chosen the long grass in which to have their lunch when they're was so much open meadow they could have chosen.

Loras laughed when he asked and gestured over to the east. "Brightwater Keep is less than a mile from here. I'd rather avoid being chased away by an angry Florent farmer."

Renly grinned and supposed he had a point. As such, Loras had chosen a rather suitable spot he thought. Once sat down, the grass all but completely obscured them from view and any farmers that might not be too happy about them sitting in his field would never be able to spot them.

Renly lay back against the grass happily whilst Loras continued flattening the glass so he could lay out their lunch. There were a fair few flowers even in among the long grass and Renly picked a yellow one absent-mindedly, twirling it between his fingers and thinking what a pretty colour it was.

"What's this one called?" he asked Loras.

"That's a buttercup." Loras replied, ushering Renly up, laying down a blanket and then pushing him back down. He began laying out the various things the serving girl had packed. "We used to play this game with them when we were younger. Supposedly if they glow yellow under your chin then that means you like butter."

Renly laughed. "Sounds good fun." He held the flower up to his chin.

Loras rolled his eyes. "Sometimes I wonder how old you are..." All the same though he stopped getting things out of the saddle bag and leant over to peer under Renly's chin. "Yep you like butter." he said. "But I could have told you that without the flower. I'm yet to see a food you don't like."

Renly grinned. "Let me try on you." He thrust the flower under Loras' chin and sure enough it made the skin above it glow a rather pleasing shade of gold.

Loras yawned and lay back against the grass with a saffron bun to eat. "I'm guessing I like butter too then?"

"Indeed you do." Renly laughed and tried a seed cake. It was delicious and before long, most of the food the serving girl had packed had disappeared and their fingers were stained a bright purple from all of the cherries Loras had picked from the Florent orchards.

Renly sighed and leant back against the grass again, trying to spot patterns in the clouds and attempting rather unsuccessfully to lick the purple from his fingers. After a while he gave up, and returned to picking flowers and trying to guess their various names.

"Loras?" Renly asked presently, a brilliant red flower with a black middle catching his attention.

"What?"

"If I had to be a flower, what sort do you reckon I'd be?"

Loras laughed. "How do you come up with this stuff Renly? Flowers don't have personalities."

Renly grinned. "I was a very bored child." He laughed. "Well go on then. What would I be?"

Loras sat up. "You're actually serious about this?"

Renly grinned. "Deadly so. Well come along now, pick one."

Loras cast around for inspiration and seemingly found none for he shrugged. "I don't know?" He said doubtfully. "A rose?"

Renly laughed. Trust Loras to pick his own family sigil. The boy had no imagination. He sighed. "Why a rose then?"

Loras shrugged. "Because I like roses."

Renly laughed. "That's a dull reason."

Loras rolled his eyes. "Why does everything have to be complicated with you?"

Renly sighed. "Alright then, tell me why you like roses then. And you're not allowed to say because they're your family's sigil."

"I don't know? Because they're pretty?" Loras laughed. "And they're different from other flowers. Did you know that you can't plant roses twice in the same soil? They're rather irreplaceable like that."

Renly laughed. "Is that what I am then? Irreplaceable?"

Loras rolled his eyes again. "There's definitely only one Renly Baratheon. For which I and the world should be very grateful I imagine."

Renly's grin only widened. "You're so kind." He came to sit next to him. "In all seriousness though, I never knew that about roses. How have they been growing them in Highgarden for centuries then?"

Loras laughed. "It's a real problem apparently actually. They have to bring in soil from all over the Reach. We probably steal it from the Florents or something."

Renly grinned. "For a knight, you're very knowledgeable about flowers. How do you know so much anyway?"

"Willas." Loras replied simply as if that provided all the answer Renly needed. "What would I be then?" he asked, evidently humouring Renly.

Renly contemplated this for a few moments, quickly realising that he knew hardly any flowers by name. "One of those bright yellow sunflowers." Renly decoded though after a while. "I used to have some growing on my balcony when I used to stay in Kings Landing as a child. You know those ones that turn throughout the day to face the light."

"Because I like sunshine?" Loras laughed. "And you said my reason was poor."

Renly grinned and sat up. "Maybe it's my flower knowledge that's poor. I didn't have many to choose from. I was going to say one of those flowers that snap, what are those ones called?"

"Snapdragons?" Loras raised an eyebrow. "And why's that?"

"Because whilst they're pretty, I get the feeling they're rather bad tempered flowers. Not to be trifled with."

"I'm flattered." Loras rolled his eyes and shoved him back down into the grass.

Renly grinned. "You're welcome" He reached up and pulled Loras down on top of him.

They lay still for a while, Loras' head resting on his stomach and Renly still thinking about flowers. "I think Stannis would be one of those spiny things that grows down in Dorne." he said, thinking out loud.

"A cactus?" Loras laughed. "Perhaps he would."

Renly grinned and tried to pull Loras up to lie next to him properly.

Loras obliged, moving to sit up. Quickly though he lay back down. "I think I've eaten too much to move." He said, before shutting his eyes and laying his head against Renly's chest this time. "This is your influence Renly. All those feasts you gave when I was at Storm's End."

Renly grinned, and reached down to pull Loras' shirt up slightly, tracing little circles against his stomach with the pad of his thumb. "Does this make it feel better?"

Loras sighed ever so softly and so Renly continued absent-mindedly, tracing the planes of Loras' stomach with one hand and reaching for the last apple pastry with the other. Seeing as he wasn't in the least bit hungry, this was probably not a particularly sensible idea. The pastry looked lonely however, sitting on its own in the centre of the blanket, and Renly couldn't help but want to eat it. It was a particularly tasty one, though as he had the last few mouthfuls, he couldn't help but fear it was this sort of thing that would lead to him ending up like Robert.

He was just lost in rather terrifying imaginings of himself sat in the audience chambers in Storm's End and his chair collapsing underneath him just as he received some very important guests when Loras tapped him rather pointedly on the arm.

Glancing down, he saw that his hand was still on Loras' stomach and rather closer to the top of Loras' breeches than it had been before. As such Loras was looking up at him with a rather expectant expression that Renly recognised well. It was usually followed by Loras removing all of his clothes.

"Now?" Renly laughed. "Here?"

"Why not?" Loras sat up and running his hands down Renly''s thighs, it suddenly became a very good idea.

"Alright." Renly grinned, making to stand up in search of the little vial of oil he'd packed that morning in the saddlebag, intended of course for use in their bed at the inn and not the middle of a field.

Loras seemed to guess what Renly was doing for he grabbed Renly's arm and pulled him back down. "Don't bother." He laughed. "I'll be fine."

"You su-"

"Yes." Loras growled before Renly could finish the question and the time for argument was over it seemed, Loras pushing Renly roughly back into the long grass and kissing him with an open mouth.

Renly laughed against his mouth and summoning his strength, seized Loras by the hips and flipped him over. This way it was Loras who had to endure being tickled by the long feathery grass whereas he could merely lean against Loras. A much better arrangement if Renly said so himself.

Loras didn't seem to agree however for he raised an eyebrow as Renly leant over him triumphantly. "Is this the game then?" He asked, grabbing Renly's arms and after much of a struggle, managing to roll Renly over so he was on top once more. This carried on for some time until, inevitably really Renly thought, considering their respective sizes, Renly had Loras firmly pinned against the ground.

Making sure Loras didn't escape with one hand, Renly used the other to tug down Loras' breeches and pull the laces out of his own. "Is this what you want?" He nipped at the soft skin below Loras' navel and made him whimper. "Is it?"

Loras just closed his eyes and breathed some sort of incoherent response.

Renly laughed. "I didn't quite catch that? Shall I repeat the question then? Is this what you want? He moved his hand back Loras' navel, moving it tantalisingly lower. "Or not?"

Loras let out another low pitched hum.

"I'll take that as a no then shall I?" Renly removed his hand and made to do up his laces.

The sound Loras made in response to that was so plaintive that Renly couldn't help but laugh at him. "Aw Loras." He pressed a kiss to his stomach. "Shall I put you out of your misery then?"

Loras nodded underneath him and grabbed Renly's hands to push them downwards.

Renly grinned and pulled his hands out of Loras' grip, wondering how best to go about this without hurting Loras overmuch. He licked his fingers before pushing them into Loras but it didn't seem to make it all that much easier. Irrespective of this though, this seemed to be what Loras wanted, for he arched his back to make the angle easier for him, sighing very softly as Renly worked him slowly open.

The sighs were louder by the time Renly entered him, and verging on cries. It was rather more difficult than usual and Renly made painfully slow progress as he pushed up into him, forcing him open. And whilst Renly refused to believe he wasn't hurting Loras at least a little, he had to admit that the sensation was a gloriously intense one, Loras unbelievably tight around him as he all but forced his entry time and time again.

He was quite exhausted by the time his seed had spilled and he collapsed onto Loras, his energy spent.

"Alright?" he breathed.

Loras just nodded underneath him, seemingly also out of breath. Renly laughed and wrapped his arms around him. He was quite a picture, all flushed and with bits of grass sticking out of his hair.

It was a good few moments before Loras spoke and he was still panting slightly. "Do we have to go to Oldtown just yet?" he asked, yawning. "Can't we just sleep here and go in the morning?"

Renly laughed and kissed Loras' neck. As much as he didn't feel like moving either, he imagined that they'd both feel better for a proper bed in the morning when they were aching and cold from the dewy grass. "I'll tell you what," He said. "Let me get all of those grass seeds out of your hair and then we'll go?"

Loras ran a hand through his hair and finding it an absolute mess, just groaned. Renly grinned. By the time he'd sorted that out, it might very well be morning after all.


	56. Chapter 56

It was late-afternoon by the time they left their spot in the grass, Loras' hair mainly rid now of most of the strands of grass and seeds that had managed to get stuck in his curls.

Retrieving the horses from their spot in the shade, they rejoined the Rose Road, Oldtown laying before them to the south. The Hightower was clearly visible now, not yet lit up for the night time but still impressive even from many miles away, rising up magnificently as it did from the very heart of the city and dominating the horizon.

Loras was rather quiet on the remainder of the ride, and from the way he shifted slightly awkwardly in the saddle, Renly suspected he was probably a little more sore from their tumble in the grass than he was letting on. He didn't say a word to Renly on the matter though and aside from wincing ever so slightly when his horse went over a bump in the road and seeming keen to avoid staying in trot for any length of time, he didn't seem in such a bad way.

Renly contemplated saying something, or perhaps even apologising even despite the fact that the sensible part of Renly told him that this was probably just as much Loras' fault as his own, brought on by Loras' lack of patience. Even so though, he couldn't help but feel slightly guilty.

Dusk was just beginning to fall and the Hightower lit when they reached the centre of the city. It was stunningly beautiful, the honeywine meandering its way through the very heart of the city as it made its slow path into Whispering Sound, the broad bay in which Oldtown sat. It was a curious river, Renly found, its channel splitting often to form tiny little islands between its banks before it would then put itself back together a couple of hundred feet downstream. And there was certainly no shortage of crossings. Everywhere they're seemed to be gently arching bridges that provided passage over the both honeywine's waters and those of the many canals that also wound their way through the city.

The streets were cobbled and very narrow, winding and full of market stalls that were now just shutting up for the evening, their owners no doubt off for their supper and bed. What surprised Renly more than anything however was just how clean these streets were. Most of the people of Oldtown were on foot and in a complete contrast to the streets of Kings Landing, they weren't having to wade through filth as they went on their way.

It was up these little streets that Loras took him, following their twists and turns until they stood before the Hightower itself, situated in the middle of the Honeywine on a small spit of land Loras told him was called Battle Island. A large drawbridge was lowered to the eastern bank, and even as this late into the evening a constant stream of people were travelling across it, from the humblest servant in his simple white tunic, to knights in all their splendour.

“It's incredible isn't it?” Loras said, looking up as Renly was at the tower in front of them.

Renly just nodded. Just looking at it made him feel rather dizzy. He was no stranger to tall buildings, Storm's End after all had walls more than 150 feet high, and yet the tower in front of him would dwarf even that colossal castle.

Loras grinned. “Do you want to climb it?”

Renly laughed. That was certainly an offer he couldn't turn down, and so they joined the stream of people crossing the old wooden drawbridge and entered the great stone doors that led into the tower itself.

The guards at the bottom appeared to recognise Loras for they smiled and asked if they should like to be escorted to the top, an offer which Loras pleasantly turned down and said they'd be quite alright climbing by themselves.

The staircase was a tight spiral, winding up through the very centre of the tower with rooms coming off it on every floor. It took them well over half an hour to climb to the top where the family apparently had their rooms, a poor place Renly thought for an elderly lord whose health was rapidly deteriorating.

A lady who might have been either lord Leyton's daughter or wife greeted them at the top, kissing Loras on both cheeks and asking to be introduced to his companion.

Loras addressed her as aunt Malora, so he supposed this must have been a daughter, a sister, or half sister perhaps for lord Leyton had had four wives, to Loras' mother. She seemed mildly surprised when Loras introduced her to Renly, remarking that he was certainly a long way from home, but greeted him pleasantly and offered to take them up to see the great beacon that lit up the sea for miles around, guiding ships safely into the port.

It was very hot at the topmost level of the Hightower, the great pyre in the centre warming the very air around it. It was unbelievably bright, and Renly knew that when the sun had finally disappeared into the western horizon, it would be solely responsible for lighting up much of the south-eastern coast.

Lady Malora started with the northern facing side, pointing out first the starry sept that was visible several hundred feet below them, and then tracing the Honeywine's path up to Brightwater Keep with a long finger that she swished through the air. The Ocean Road too was visible, winding its way out of Oldtown and up the entire western coast of the Reach until as Renly knew it finished its journey in the heart of Lannisport.

They moved slightly round to the east, pointing out Highgarden cheerfully to the north-east of Oldtown, the glorious white castle reduced to the size of a dolls house.

“Sometimes,” Lady Malora said, gesturing beyond Highgarden. “On a very very clear day, you can see all the way to Storm's End.” She smiled at Renly. “It's little more than a black speck on the horizon but it's there all right.”

They moved round again, Lady Malora now gesturing towards the Dornish Marches and beyond them the red mountains, which glowed like fire in the fading light of the sun. Then, ushering them on yet again, Whispering Sound and the Redwyne Straits, over which the Arbour was clearly visible, probably no more than twenty or thirty miles from the mainland.

“I've saved the best for last.” Lady Malora said excitedly as they moved finally now to the western side of the tower. “I always like it when visitors come up at sunset.”

Her words were true Renly thought, and whoever had thought to name the sea that stretched out before them the Sunset Sea had surely had good sense. It reminded Renly of Storm's End at dawn, and yet it was far more beautiful than even that glorious sight, the reds and oranges of the dying sun shimmering over the water and creating waves of fire on the glassy water below.

It was a shame to leave and yet descending was undeniably easier. They were both worn out by the time they got to the bottom and had it not been for Hightower's beacon, Oldtown would have been plunged into darkness.

They chose an inn relatively close to Hightower, a small establishment that was nestled in between two of the grand stone buildings Oldtown was famed for.

They got two rooms at the inn but within ten minutes of the landlady showing them to their respective chambers, Loras had found his way to Renly's and settled himself in his bed.

Renly grinned and went to join him despite the fact that it was still rather early for bed. Whilst he however was so exhausted that he was quite sure he could drop of in seconds, Loras seemed slightly agitated, tossing and turning as if he couldn't quite comfortable anywhere, and when he did manage to stay still for a little while, it seemed to Renly as if he was lying slightly awkwardly.

Renly wrapped his arms around him, hoping that might help him settle and feeling more than a little guilty that it was probably partly his fault that Loras wasn't feeling ever so well this evening.

“Loras,” Renly said tentatively, knowing he was on dangerous ground here in regards to Loras' pride. “Are you alright?”

As he expected, Loras looked unimpressed at these words, rather as if Renly had just pointed out some great weakness of his. “I'm fine.” he said. “Why shouldn't I be?”

“I thought you were perhaps a little sore from earlier?” Renly asked, drawing him closer.

Loras shrugged. “A little perhaps.”

Renly kissed the corner of his mouth. “Can I take a look? Make sure you're alright?”

Loras edged away slightly at this. “Do you have to? Really I'm fine.”

“Please?” He pulled Loras back to him determinedly.

Loras didn't look too pleased but he acquiesced of sorts, rolling over and not complaining, or not out loud at least, when Renly pulled his small-clothes down. He winced though when Renly touched and spun back round to face him, eyes flashing daggers.

“You said _look_ , not _touch_.” he hissed.

“I'll be gentle I promise.” Renly insisted, rolling Loras over once more so he was on his front. Continuing his investigating a little further, Renly was rather alarmed to find a little blood. He couldn't help but feel rather horrified; he was usually so gentle with Loras and yet today he quite clearly had not been anywhere near enough so.

“I made you _bleed_ Loras.” Renly said miserably as he pulled Loras' small-clothes back up.

His misery must have shown on his face for Loras' expression softened and he took Renly in his arms. “It doesn't matter.” he insisted. “It only stings a very little, and I'll be perfectly alright by tomorrow.” He leant in to kiss him. “And anyway it's hardly your fault.”

“But _still_.” Renly kissed him back. “I've never done that before.”

Loras looked a little uncomfortable at those words.

“I've hurt you before and you never told me?” The guilt Loras had managed to appease slightly came flooding back and Renly felt quite miserable again.

“Only a very few times.” Loras insisted. “And only ever when I ask you to be rough with me.”

“But why didn't you tell me?” Renly sighed.

Loras laughed. “Because if I'd done that, you'd probably have insisted on treating me like a china doll for the rest of our lives.” He kissed Renly's forehead. “I like it when you're rough with me. Even if it does hurt a tiny bit afterwards.”

That didn't seem logical to Renly and yet he couldn't dispute the fact that Loras certainly did seem to like it when he stopped being gentle with him, and so he didn't see the point arguing.

He sighed. “Is there anything I can do for you? Make you more comfortable?” He got to his feet. “I'll tell you what, I'll get the servants to bring you up some hot water. Maybe a bath will help?”

He expected Loras to tell him to stop fussing but he just laughed. “Alright then Renly, if it'll make you feel better, I'll have a bath for you.” He grinned and made to get up. “I'll go and get the water.”

Renly shook his head, pushed Loras back into bed and made his own way to the door. It would not do at all for Loras to have to fetch water for his own bath when he was in pain. It was only when he'd gone down a few of the steps though that he realised he didn't know where to start in finding hot water, or someone to find it for him. He'd thought perhaps to find some servant girl still milling about, but the corridors were deserted.

He continued down the stairs, hoping that the servants might convene downstairs or something. This was the sort of thing Loras had sorted out for him when he'd been his squire, and after Loras had been knighted, one of his household guard or even one of their squires. He sighed. At some point soon, he would need to get around to replacing Loras. It was rather odd, he thought, He'd always thought Loras a rather unnecessary squire and yet now he didn't have one, he was suffering for it.

After a good twenty minutes of wandering though, he eventually came across a serving girl who seemed on her way to bed.

She didn't appear too pleased to be stopped, evidently not realising that it was the lord paramount of the Stormlands that was asking her for her trouble. Her rather sour expression did melt slightly when Renly asked her nicely, and it disappeared entirely when Renly pressed a couple of gold dragons into her palm. This was no wonder really, Renly supposed, considering that that was probably more than the poor girl earned in a month.

It didn't take her long to bring water up and Renly thanked her kindly before she set off again for bed.

Loras seemed amused at how long it had taken Renly to sort out simple hot water for a bath and yet he was quite good about it, not saying anything as he stepped into the tub and merely laughing slightly under his breath.

“What?” Renly laughed.

“Nothing.” Loras said innocently. “It's just I was starting to wonder whether you'd gone all the way back to Highgarden to find the water.”

Renly rolled his eyes and came to sit beside him, trying not to feel overly useless at having taking so long, and instead concentrating on getting the few remaining grass seeds out of Loras' hair.  
The embarrassment was worth it however, for Loras seemed both in better spirits and more comfortable after the hot bath, although the former, Renly was quite sure, probably had a lot more to do with the fact that Loras had found Renly's failings highly amusing rather than any effect of the hot water.

As Loras had promised him he would be, he seemed as right as rain the next morning and Renly tried his best not to fuss over him, knowing how much Loras hated such things. As usual he was up much earlier than Renly and had found breakfast for the two of them. Not from the inn Loras had said, for apparently he had happened to chance one of the trays they were sending up for another of the guests and it had looked so disgusting, Loras had decided he'd rather eat dirt than anything made downstairs. And so,he had been out and found a bakery a few doors down, providing an incredibly unhealthy breakfast for the two of them, but one that Renly certainly had no qualms with.

It was to the Citadel that they headed once they'd finished their breakfast, that great place of learning where every maester formed his chain. It didn't take them long to get there, and when they did Renly was rather surprised to find that the citadel was not one great building as he had expected, but was instead made up of many smaller ones, all built out of smooth grey stone and connected with arching stone bridges.

The gates were as impressive as Renly had always been told they were. They stood thirty foot high and were formed of two great sphinxes, those creatures of myth that had the bodies of lions, the wings of eagles and the forked tails of a serpent. The overall effect was quite an unusual one and yet what Renly found most disconcerting was their faces. Set in amongst the jumbled parts of various animals were the faces of people, one a man's and the other a woman's.

These led through into Scribes Hearth where those who wanted to could hire people to read and write. Here there were stalls selling books and maps, proving, as Renly had always thought, that books were indeed for maesters. Certainly the tomes they were selling here seemed incredibly dull, long and lengthy, and probably dusty.

The Isle of Ravens however was a much more interesting part of the Citadel, Renly found. It was situated on one of those small islands in the midst of the Honeywine, connected to the eastern bank with an old wooden drawbridge like the Hightower was.

The ravenry itself seemed as though it had stood forever, it was so covered in moss and vines, as did the weirwood tree, standing proudly in the centre of the courtyard, its roots protruding through the cobblestones. At first glance, Renly had thought the tree to have rather peculiar black leaves, but when they got closer, it was clear to see that what he had thought to be leaves, were in fact thousands of ravens perched on every branch.

It was the West Tower however that Renly found most fascinating. Here they saw the white ravens of autumn, most of them asleep in their enclosure and all of them with snowy white feathers that shone in the bright sunlight.

They stood watching them for a while until Loras spoke.

“When do you think autumn will be?” He asked as one flew to the top of its enclosure.

Renly smiled. “I don't know. I doubt any time soon though, seeing as this summer shows no sign of going anywhere quite yet.” He laughed. “I doubt you remember anything else do you?”

Loras shrugged. “I guess not.”

Renly laughed. He himself only just about remembered winter with its cold winds and deep snows. He'd been ten when this summer had started, and the last winter was but a distant memory, more distant even than the siege of Storm's End.

Loras laughed. “It's hard to believe it'll ever be winter when it's this hot.”

Renly grinned. “Isn't it just so.” he agreed. “And yet what is it the Starks say?” He put on an ominous voice. “ _Winter is coming_.”

Loras laughed. “I've always wonder what they say when it's actually winter. _The next winter is coming_ doesn't have quite the same ring to it does it?”

Renly chuckled. “Next time I meet one, I'll ask.”

It was to the Starry Sept that they went to next, which would be their last stop before they went into search of some lunch. The sept that had been the seat of the Faith for a thousand years before the Great Sept of Baelor had been built stood at the end of one of the larger streets in Oldtown, rising majestically in black marble above the smaller houses and shops it surrounded. Septons and septas were hurrying in and out, most dressed simply in white but some in robes of wonderfully bright colours, presumably denoting a higher rank, Renly suspected.

Inside was just undeniably magnificent but they didn't stay long, neither he nor Loras having much inclination to either pray or remain to read the lengthy histories of the faith that were contained in great books available to be read by visitors. And so after having seen the starry painted ceiling for which the sept was named and peering a while at the statues of the Gods they decided finding some lunch might be rather more interesting.

Lunch was a quick affair, had hurriedly in a tavern overlooking the Honeywine before they went in search of something Renly could buy Garlan and Leonette for a wedding present. Garlan was easy enough, Loras pointing out things he'd like every ten feet or so. And so, on his advice, Renly bought Garlan a wonderfully shiny saddle made of rich brown leather that Renly thought anyone would be pleased to own. This, he arranged to have sent to Highgarden within a few days, before moving on to find something for Leonette.

Leonette was more interesting to buy for, Renly thought, as he suspected most women were. He spent a long time however debating between a beautifully sculpted vase with flowers engraved around the edges and an uncommonly pretty set of porcelain plates. Eventually though, he decided to get neither of these and to get jewellery instead, Renly having been led to believe that all women liked such things and if the many trinkets he had inherited from his mother were anything to go by, that they could never have enough of it either.

And so it was only after Renly had purchased a large emerald pendant for Loras' future good sister, that they fetched their horses from the inn and began to start back for Highgarden.

They were almost out of the centre when an uncommonly pretty building caught Renly's eye. It was large and made of white stone that almost glittered in the sunlight, and covered with a lovely plant that had very strange petals, half being a deep pink and the other a startling white. It seemed a cheerful place too, many people milling about on its steps, dressed in gloriously bright colours and fanning themselves in the heat.

“That's a pretty building.” Renly remarked.

Loras seemed amused. “That's the Oldtown brothel,” he said flatly.

“Oh.” Renly looked again and sure enough on a second glance the women seated on the steps were quite clearly whores, very expensive whores, but clearly whores none the less. They were draped in rich silks and jewels hung from their ears as they leant back against the white marble steps and fanned themselves rather seductively.

Loras laughed. “Go in if you like it so much. I'll wait here and listen for the lady's screams of terror as you try and force yourself upon them.”

Renly rolled his eyes. “I'm sure any one of them would be delighted to bed me.”

“Look though.” Loras said curiously. “People like us can't be that uncommon after all. That one's a boy.” He pointed to a slender youth sitting in among the girls, such a pretty lad that Renly might have mistook him for a girl had Loras not pointed out otherwise. Although he'd never have voiced this opinion, with his slender frame, tumble of silky curls, and delicate features, the boy rather reminded Renly of Loras, or a dark haired version of him at any rate for the boy's curls were coal black like Renly's own.

“Did you not know you got male prostitutes?” Renly asked. He laughed. “And what do you mean people like us?”

“I guess I never really thought about it.” Loras shrugged. He rolled his eyes. “And you know he exactly what I meant. I meant men who prefer other men to women.”  
.  
Renly grinned. “Might you not like both?”

Loras seemed stumped. “I guess it's possible.” He sounded doubtful. “I mean I've never tried anything intimate with a woman.” He glanced again at the whores, more curiously this time and Renly wondered if he was imagining how it would feel if he were to slide a hand down one of their bodices or between their legs. Eventually though Loras shook his head rather decisively. “No, I don't think so.”

Renly laughed. He'd assumed as much. It was odd really when he thought about it though that Loras too should share his total lack of interest in women. Either, it was more common than Renly had previously thought, an incredibly fortunate coincidence, or, and this last thought made Renly shiver slightly, perhaps it was his own fault that Loras wasn't like normal men. Perhaps it was possible that growing up with Renly at a time when he ought to have been surrounded by other boys who would have encouraged him to chase women with them had made Loras turn out the way he had done.

Renly pushed this thought out of his mind unhappily. He supposed there was no point dwelling on it really, Loras seemed happy enough as he was and besides, it was too lovely a day to be worrying himself with anything more daunting than where they were going to find dinner in between here and Highgarden.

They rode in a companionable silence for the first hour, Loras seemingly deep in thought about something or another.

He turned to him however some distance past Brightwater Keep. “Renly?” He asked. “Are people like us so very uncommon?”

Renly laughed. “I don't know to be honest. But as you pointed out earlier, there must be enough of us about to make male whores viable. It's not like women would visit a whorehouse to use them.”

This didn't seem to satisfy Loras for he pressed the matter. “Well have you me anyone like that aside from me?”

Renly shrugged. “A couple I guess. But few and far between. Obviously that dornish boy for one. And Prince Oberyn too I suppose if the rumours that he beds with boys are tr-.”

“Prince Oberyn doesn't count.” Loras interjected. “He'll fuck anything that moves I've heard. Horses...sheep...camels...” Loras continued, his list of the various things the dornish prince had allegedly bedded according to the Reach getting more and more ridiculous as he went on. Eventually though he ran out of steam and came back to the matter at hand. “Well apart from that dornish whore you took a fancy to, anyone else?”

Renly ignored Loras' jibe and thought for a moment, managing to think of no-one else save that one stableboy he had had a brief tryst with when he was thirteen. He shrugged. “I suppose that stable boy must have been too.” He sighed when Loras looked blankly up at him. “You know, the one I told you about, a long time ago now, back when you asked me if I'd ever gone to bed with anyone.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I'm sure I told you about it?”

Loras raised an eyebrow. “The servant that you told me you kissed?” He laughed and there was something slightly triumphant about it, Renly thought. “You did tell me. You failed to mention however that it was a boy.”

Renly laughed, feeling his cheeks flush slightly as he remembered how he had indeed deliberately concealed that part. He shrugged innocently. “Ah yes, now that you mention it, I suppose I did deign to leave that particular detail out.”

Loras laughed. “I noted at the time though that you didn't specify either way.”

“Did you? I imagined that you would just assume it was a girl and forget about it, not having the knowledge you have now. Most people would have done you know.”

Loras rolled his eyes. “I'm not most people. And anyway I was fishing.”

“Fishing?” Renly queried.

“Yes _fishing_. It's what Grandmother calls it when you're looking for a specific piece of information.”

Renly laughed. “And what specific piece of information were you looking for then?” He asked even though he suspected he knew the answer.

“I wanted to know what the chances were of you returning any advances I might make with you. Or if I'd imagined that you might be that way.” He laughed. “Needless to say, I didn't find what I was looking for.”

“And when did you then?”

Loras shrugged. “No particular moment. I guess I didn't know for absolutely certain until you told me about that dornish boy. But it had got rather obvious even before then. I used to catch you staring at me, and you got rather uncomfortable sharing a bed with me. Anyway, enough about me, I want to hear about this stableboy.”

Renly laughed. “What about him?”

“Do I know him? Is he still at Storm's End?”

“Gods no.” Renly laughed. “I was so embarrassed that I sent him away. I think he went to Haystack Hall in the end. Got a nice position as a groom to lord Astan's horses”

“What was he like?” Loras yawned and moved his horse closer. “My predecessor so to speak.”

“Not a bit like you.” Renly laughed, trying now to remember memories that he had spent years trying to forget. “He was a peasant boy. Very dark, spent a lot of time in the sun. Attractive though in that coarse sort of way. A little older than me I think.”

“And how did it happen?” Loras laughed. “Did you pounce on him?”

Renly rolled his eyes. “I did nothing of the sort, He was helping me put away my horse, and I'd already thought quite often that he was rather handsome. And he caught me staring at him. Decided to push his luck I guess. Pushed a rather rough hand down my breeches”

“ _Renly!_ ” Loras' eyes twinkled with amusement “And here was me thinking you were a nice boy.”

Renly laughed, and reached over to poke him hard in the ribs.

Loras just grinned and did something with his legs that somehow made his horse prance sideways out of Renly's way. So Renly just sighed and resigned himself to having lost this particular battle, sighing once more when he realised he couldn't remember a single time he'd got the better of Loras.


	57. Chapter 57

They were back very late from Oldtown and yet that didn't stop Loras from shaking Renly awake what seemed like the crack of dawn, announcing loudly that he was going to take him to Ashford this morning. And despite Renly's desperate bargaining for just a few more hours sleep before setting off, he was unrelenting, throwing the curtains wide open and pulling the covers off him, Renly's pleas seemingly falling on deaf ears.

And so less than an hour later, Renly found himself riding east, with Loras to his left and Margaery and Garlan to his right, a full train of guards behind them and the soft lulling motion of his horse threatening to send him straight back to sleep if he wasn't careful.

It wasn't a particularly long journey to Ashford and whilst Renly wascertainly feeling more awake by the time they arrived, he didn't feel any less exhausted for it. They were but a couple of miles now from the Stormland border, Storm's End rising to the west, seeming to Renly so close that, had he attempted it, he was quite sure he would have been able to reach out and touch it. And as ashamed as Renly was to admit it, he found himself yearning for home and for his own bed where he'd be able to get a couple of decent hours of uninterrupted sleep without Loras insisting he got up.

He was glad he resisted the temptation though, for the gardens at Ashford which Renly had once heard Loras describe to Red Ronnet as merely tolerable, turned out to be quite delightful.

It wasn't the flowers though that Loras had seemingly taken him to see, but a large sprawling maze that stretched across the grounds. It was quite an experience, Renly found, with its ten foot high hedges that left him feeling rather like he had left the real world and entered one where the only colour was green. And despite his tiredness, Renly had to admit that it was jolly good fun. He and Loras started at one entrance and Garlan and Margaery at another, the challenge being to get to the middle first.

He and Loras proved, however, to be a rather unsuccessful team, for whichever way Renly was convinced was the right way, Loras seemed to be equally sure that it wasn't. From the laughter he could hear though from the other side of the maze however, it seemed that Margaery and Garlan were having the same problem.

He turned to Loras and got a gold dragon out of his pocket. “I'll tell you what Loras,” he said. “We'll flip this coin and if it lands dragon side up, we'll go the way I've picked and if it lands on the other we'll go yours. Sound fair?”

“Alright.” Loras laughed. “But only if I flip it.”

Renly rolled his eyes and handed him the coin, feeling sorely disappointed when he saw it land in Loras' favour. He honoured his word though and followed Loras down the path, which was perhaps for the best as before long it seemed that Loras' way might well be the right one, as Margaery's and Garlan's laughter became steadily louder the further forward they walked.

“I told you this was the way.” Loras said smugly as they rounded a corner, his smile rapidly fading though when he saw that he'd led them straight into a dead end.

Renly grinned. “You were saying Loras...?”

Loras scowled, grabbed his hand and dragged him back the way they had come, taking no notice of Renly's laughing at him.

Eventually, after many many more dead ends and Loras threatening to slash a way through the hedge if they didn't discover the way soon before grudgingly admitting that he perhaps wasn't very good at this, they reached the centre, disappointed to see Margaery and Garlan already sitting there, casually lounging back against the grass as if they were born finding their way through terribly confusing mazes.

The illusion was soon broken though for it quickly emerged that neither Margaery or Garlan could remember the way they had come. Round and round in circles they went until eventually Loras said he'd had enough and insisted he wasn't going any further until they'd worked out which way might be the right way.

Garlan laughed. “Easier said than done Loras. What do you think we've been trying to do for the last half an hour?”

Loras shrugged and leant back against the hedge. He glanced up at Renly. “You're supposed to be the clever one. Master of Laws and all that. Get us out of here.”

Renly laughed. “Search me. I've long learnt today that I have little sense of direction.”

“Fine then.” Loras glanced at his sister and then up at the hedge. “We'll just have to cheat our way out then.”

Margaery laughed, catching his drift rather quickly it seemed. “You want to lift me up so I can see the way out?” She leant back against the hedge rather as Loras had just done. “Well go on then.” She began to hitch up her skirts.

Garlan grinned. “That's very improper Margaery.” he teased. “What would father say if he knew you were lifting your skirts so in company?”

She rolled her eyes. “Well it's lucky father isn't here to see.” she retorted and let Loras hoist her up into the air, giving both Garlan and Renly a decent view of her petticoats.

Renly had to laugh, rather admiring the way Margaery, who always seemed so well turned out, seemed to have no qualms whatsoever about shredding her dignity and sorting out the situation at hand.

“Well what way is it?” Loras asked, his arms now firmly around his sister's legs.

“Well it's left, then right and then straight..” she began listing off directions.

“Someone better be remembering this.” Loras growled through clenched teeth, the effort of holding his sister up for so long evidently taking its toll.

Garlan grinned. “Well why is it our responsibility? _You_ could be remembering it.”

“ _I'm_ busy right now.” Loras muttered, seemingly glad when Margaery appeared to have worked out the rest of the way.

She seemed to have trouble getting down and so Renly extended a hand to help her. She laughed as she took it, hopping down out of Loras' arms and onto the ground.

With Margaery's newly acquired directions, it didn't take them long to finally get out of the maze, where a rather worried-looking retinue of guards were waiting for them, evidently having made bets on whether their liege lord's children would ever get out alive.

It was an enjoyable day and yet Renly found himself almost falling asleep at the end of it. He was beyond relieved when they reached Highgarden and after being almost dragged up the stairs by Loras, he was so tired, he thought it rather blissful when he was able to collapse finally into bed and fall asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow.

Thankfully, Loras took pity on him the next day and conceded that it wouldn't be so terrible in fact if they stayed in Highgarden that day. He even let Renly sleep past breakfast with good relative grace, managing somehow to abstain from waking him even though Renly knew he'd probably been itching to do so for hours.

He was still beside him when Renly awoke, albeit fully dressed and rather restless from having done nothing all morning. He seemed in good spirits though, asking, rather than informing him, about what they might like to do that afternoon.

In the end though, Renly let him choose anyway and so it was decided that they should go out riding with Loras' siblings and cousins. That way, Renly would get to see a little of the countryside around Highgarden and yet also would be able to get to bed at a reasonable hour.

They walked down together to the stables, Renly realising for the second time now in several days that he really needed to find himself a new squire. As it happened though, Loras volunteered to sort the horses out anyway, probably more out of habit though than any sense of duty.

“You don't have to do that.” Renly insisted, as Loras headed in the direction of the stall Renly's horse had been housed in. “You're not my squire anymore you know.”

Loras shrugged. “I don't mind.” he said. “And anyway we'd be standing here for years if we waited for you to do it yourself. You'd probably put the saddle on backwards or something.”

Renly laughed. “I most certainly would not.” As it so happened, whilst he might not be so skilled at finding hot water, Renly believed he was perfectly capable of dealing with horses.

Loras smirked. “Perhaps not. But even so, you'd probably amble there, and amble back, and by the time you returned, assuming you ever did that is, it would be dusk and time to return home.”

Renly rolled his eyes and let him gone on with it. He was certainly not one to make more work for himself when Loras was being so stubborn about it anyway. Instead thus, spotting Willas helping one of the young Tyrells with her bridle, he strolled over to him, hopeful that Willas might be kind enough to show him the new sand steed Prince Oberyn had sent him from Dorne whilst Loras was conveniently absent and thus unable to complain about it.

“Of course.” Willas smiled when Renly asked him, buckling up the bridle before limping off in the direction of a stall just a few feet down from where they were standing.

Willas took him right inside the stall, the stallion being surprisingly good tempered for such an evidently highly-bred creature. Willas seemed to have a way with it, and Renly wondered whether he was disappointed not to be riding out with them that afternoon. If he did, he didn't show it, smiling quietly as he told Renly all about the sand steed's good breeding.

Renly found he had to agree. It was perhaps the most glorious horse he had ever seen, tall and powerful with long limbs made for racing. The only shame about it seemed that it was quite clear Willas would never be able to ride it.

Willas laughed softly, his golden-brown eyes kind. “Well if you like it so much lord Renly, I shall make sure to give you one of the foals when I've bred from him.”

Renly laughed. “If you're sure it wouldn't be wasted on me.” he jested, knowing how much Loras despaired about his lack of what Loras called a way with horses.

“I'm sure it wouldn-” Willas began to insist. He was interrupted though by Garlan putting his head over the door.

“Loras is back, you might want to come back before he spots you with your beloved sand steed.” He grinned. “I don't know about you lord Renly, but I for one would rather not listen to him ramble on about why on earth Willas would be stupid enough to not realise we've got perfectly good horses in the Reach without getting any foreign ones in.”

Renly laughed, and as quickly as Willas' leg would allow, they made their way back into the centre of the yard.

They made it just as Loras came round the corner with both horses. He seemed to guess where they'd been though and rolled his eyes, to their surprise laughing rather dryly. “You know, it's not quite necessary to skulk behind my back to look at a horse.” he insisted to Renly, handing one set of reins over.

Renly laughed and let Loras help him up into the saddle. It was rather nice, he thought, the fact that Loras seemed in no haste to stop acting like his squire any time soon. It was somehow reassuring, as if Loras still belonged to him in some shape or form, and yet Renly supposed he probably ought not to take advantage of it like he was currently doing; it was hardly fair to Loras, or befitting of his rank.

The ride was good fun, almost all of the numerous Tyrells and Fossoways that were staying at Highgarden joining them to take a rather gentle turn about the Highgarden countryside. It was a very pretty ride, Renly thought, through fields and meadows and more orchards than he could count, the slow flowing River Mander never too far from their sight.

He learnt quickly too that it wasn't just Loras who had a rather irrepressible habit of picking fruit as they went through the fields of farmers, and before long all the younger boys and girls had brightly stained fingers from plums and cherries and other brightly coloured fruit they'd pinched. Even Margaery, it seemed, was prone to casually leaning over a fence and picking a well chosen bunch of grapes that she would then disperse among her younger cousins to their delight.

Their ride came to a rather sharp stop however when one of the very young Fossoways, upon trying to follow Margaery's example and lean over the fence, managed to spook her horse, which bucked before bolting off in the direction of the river, depositing the girl rather gracelessly in a large bush by the side of the path.

It was clear she wasn't seriously hurt, and yet the girl seemed quite the worse for wear for her tumble, bursting into tears as stumbled to her feet. It took both Margaery and Leonette to calm her down and she refused to get back on, instead spending the remainder of the ride home sitting on Garlan's lap with her arms around his neck whilst Ser Tanton led her pony back on a lead rope.

“Poor thing.” Renly commented to Loras as they walked back to his chambers before dinner. “I think she was quite shocked by it all.”

Loras shrugged. “All the same, she should have got back on.”

“But she was only little.” Renly laughed. “I imagine she was quite frightened it might do it again.”

“I don't doubt she was frightened.” They'd reached Renly's rooms. “But she should never have got on the horse in the first place if she couldn't handle the idea of falling off. It's as simple as that really.”

Renly rolled his eyes. It seemed Loras was not prepared to be particularly sympathetic. “And what about you Loras?” he teased, collapsing onto the bed. “Have you ever fallen off?”

Loras yawned and joined him. “Recently?” He shook his head. “No not recently. But loads of times when I was young. I certainly didn't cry though, or insist on being carried all the way home.” He laughed. “We used to have this bitch of a pony who'd bolt anyone except Willas.”

“Willas seems very good with horses.” Renly commented. “I know you're not enamoured but that sand steed of his really was lovely and he had such a way with it”

Loras snorted. “Well if you like it so much, get yourself one when you go. Just don't expect me to carry you home when it bucks you.”

Renly laughed. “Maybe I shall.” He teased.

Loras yawned again. “You do that then.” He lay back against Renly's pillows. “Why are you going to Dorne anyhow?”

Renly laughed. “I told you didn't I? Lord Varys insists there's unrest there. Robert's never been popular with the dornish. Got off to a bit of a bad start in regards to Princess Elia having been murdered in order to make way for his reign.”

“I get that.” Loras sat up. “But why is it you who has to go? Couldn't you just stay here instead?”

Renly shrugged. “My brother didn't want to, and said sending Stannis was out of the question.” He laughed. “And I think Robert's somehow got it into his head that I'd make a decent match for Arianne Martell.”

It was the wrong thing to say. Loras' eyes instantly narrowed and Renly knew he was now on very dangerous ground.

“And you're alright about this?” Loras' voice was soft but his eyes told a very different story Renly thought.

Renly hesitated, cursing himself for being stupid enough to mention it in the first place. “Well... I didn't see any point in _refusing_ to go to Dorne. Robert had asked me specially and it would have been rude of me to say that I wouldn't go. Not when he's so recently given me the position.”

“So you're just going to let him think you want to marry the princess?” Loras' voice was losing it's coolness now.

Renly dithered. He hated it when Loras got like this and he knew from experience that whatever he said to try and placate him would probably be the wrong thing anyway and just wind him up further. He tried though to be tactful. “Well... I thought I could cross that bridge when I come to it. A royal visit isn't the same as a betrothal you know.”

“And meanwhile Robert is writing lovely letters to Prince Doran telling him how much his charming and wonderfully handsome younger brother would like to wed his slut of a daughter.”

Renly laughed nervously. “Look Loras, I highly doubt Robert is doing that.” He reached over to put his hand on his arm. “And even if he is, I'd still have to agree to it. See if I like her and everything. I mean, I haven't even met the girl yet. You're clearly overreacting here."

Loras scowled and recoiled away from Renly's outstretched hand. “Perhaps I've got this all wrong. From what I'm hearing it sounds like you wouldn't _mind_ marrying her.”

Renly sighed and withdrew his arm. “Of course I don't want to marry her. I don't _want_ to marry anyone.” He took a deep breath. “But at some point I probably will have to marry. Not her necessarily, but _someone_. You know that Loras, so there's no point getting so upset about was only ever an idea.”

“I do not. And I am not _upset_.” Loras glared at him with undisguised venom in his eyes. “That prince Oberyn is not married, nor are several of my aunts and uncles on my mother's side. Not everyone weds you know.”

Renly sighed deeply. “Alright, a very few people aren't married, but it's different with me. The people you've just reeled off are second sons, third s-.”

“-you're a third son.” Loras interrupted, narrowing his eyes at him as if daring him to contradict what they both knew to be a fact. “And I am too. And I have no intention of wedding.”

“Thanks for point that out Loras.” Renly couldn't help roll his eyes. “Yes I'm a third son. But I might as well not be, having Storm''s End as I do. And besides it's a very different situation to you. My brother sits on the throne. It's my family's marriages that keep the kingdoms together.” He sighed. “I doubt Stannis had any desire to wed Selyse and her moustache and yet he had to, because Robert needed the Reach brought back into the fold after the war. Likewise, Robert took Cersei because he needed the Westerlands. Joffrey will do the same with the North or whatever family he takes a bride from. Tommen and Myrcella too no doubt.” He gave a wry smile. “And at one point, hopefully not for a long time though, I imagine Robert will expect me to do the same.”

Loras had sat through this with very poor grace, looking about to interrupt at any moment. Now he got to his feet. “ _And you're perfectly fine with this?_ ” He hissed. “To be sold into some marriage like some prize horse just to keep Robert sitting comfortable on his iron throne?” His eyes flashed and for a moment Renly thought Loras about to slap him, his fists were so tightly clenched and his expression so full of thinly veiled anger.

That sort of aggression was uncalled for, Renly thought irritably and he was losing his own patience now. “It's not just my family Loras.” he retorted angrily. “It happens to everyone and you'd better get used to it." He scowled when Loras tried to interrupt. "It'll happen to Margaery too you know," he added. "She'll have barely flowered and she'll be carted off to some rich lord or another so your father can enjoy a tiny shred more of power.”

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them and he regretted them almost immediately, having should have known better than to have brought Loras' precious sister into this. He opened his mouth to try and take the words back and yet Loras had seemingly had enough, for he pushed Renly hard away from him before he could speak, storming off towards the door, his face furious. 

He turned bitterly before he reached it. “Fine.” He snapped. “Marry the princess, see if I care.” He yanked open the door. “But don't expect me to be your paramour.” He then stalked out, the door slamming shut loudly behind him and Renly sitting on the bed and feeling quite at a loss over what he ought to do. 


	58. Chapter 58

Renly sighed, lying back against his bed and running his hands through his hair. He briefly considered going after Loras, trying to placate him, apologising, but past experience told him that would probably be rather futile. Loras would only calm down when he wanted to and only then would Renly be able to try and talk some sense into him.

He supposed it was partly his fault really, for not knowing when to shut his mouth and yet Loras too surely had to take some of the blame. It was more than unreasonable Renly thought, expecting him to refuse to go to Dorne purely because Robert had made some idle comment about Arianne Martell being a suitable match for him that Renly had no intention of listening to anyway. He supposed it wasn't surprising though that Loras had taken it the wrong way. Once he'd got an idea into his head, that was usually it and he'd do a very good job at ignoring anything anyone told him to the contrary.

He'd always known at some point he would have to marry, if only to ensure an heir for Storm's End, and yet then probably hadn't been the best time to point that out to Loras. Not when it was something Renly wasn't intending on doing for as long as possible and not when Loras was already in a mood.

For the first time since arriving in Highgarden, Renly dreaded going down to dinner. He liked to think that Loras would have at least have calmed down enough to not blank him at the table or glare at him in open view of his family, but he wasn't particularly hopeful. To top it off, it had started to rain, thick heavy rain that the gardens no doubt needed but that Renly could have done without on his way to dinner.

To his surprise though, Loras wasn't even there and from the confused expressions on the Tyrells faces, he had evidently offered no explanation as to his absence.

He bit back a sigh. He supposed this meant Loras was still angry with him, so angry in fact that he was willing to go hungry in order to avoid speaking to him.

Nobody asked any questions though and Renly was quite glad when Garlan sat down next to him. He was easy to make small talk with and more importantly he was unfailingly cheerful, so much so that by the end of dinner Renly was feeling rather more optimistic about being able to patch things up with Loras.

He started his search for him in the obvious place: Loras' own chambers. He hadn't actually been inside these but Loras had pointed them out to him several times and so Renly tried his best to remember how to get to them, skirting round the walls to try and get a little less wet.

He crossed his fingers before knocking, hoping that Loras would be in there and that he'd deign to speak to him. There was no answer though and whether this was because Loras wasn't in there, or because he _was_ in there and didn't want to see him, Renly couldn't tell.

The rain was slightly heavier now and Renly didn't bother trying to avoid getting wet this time. If he'd been in Storm's End, he would have known exactly where to look for Loras and yet in Highgarden he had no idea where even to start. He wandered rather aimlessly thus from garden to garden, feeling a little less hopeful with every step that he was ever going to find him. It was a rather foreign feeling, Renly thought miserably, having Loras be angry with him, and one that he infinitely didn't like.

It wasn't until he'd found his way to the little private garden Loras had told Renly was one of his favourite places, that Renly finally felt a glimmer of hope, for as he passed through the wrought iron gate, he could see that someone was clearly sitting on the wooden swing Mace Tyrell had built for lady Alerie.

As he neared it however, it became clear that it wasn't Loras at all, but Margaery, sitting with her legs tucked under her and with a piece of sewing on her lap that she appeared to have abandoned.

She smiled when she saw him and moved to sit properly, evidently an invitation for him to join her under the shelter of the swing's wooden roof if it so pleased him.

It was a kind gesture and Renly found himself suddenly feeling rather guilty for implying earlier that she would be shunted into a marriage for her family's benefit. She was impossibly beautiful and evidently adored by her father, and so most likely she would no doubt end by being able to wed for both love and politics, a rarity nowadays it seemed to Renly and something he would never have any hope of doing.

And so he sat down next to her. She didn't ask why he was out wandering alone in such weather, even though Renly suspected she surely must have guessed that he and Loras had argued. The silence was surprisingly companionable though and if Renly hadn't been so distracted by the idea that Loras was sitting alone and miserable somewhere and thinking ill of him, he might have quite enjoyed sitting there and listening to the heavy patter of the rain on the wooden roof.

It took him a good few minutes to summon up the resolve to swallow his pride and ask Margaery as casually as he could manage if she knew where her brother might be.

It wasn't as painful as it might have been, but less fruitful than he had hoped, for she laughed softly and shook her head.

“I've no idea.” she admitted. “And knowing Loras, he won't be found unless he wants to be.” She sighed. “He was always losing his temper and stalking off when we were children. Mother used to despair. But he always turned up in the end.”

Renly laughed. He could well believe that Loras had been a handful as far as his mother was concerned.

“He'd be silly to stay out much longer though.” she said. “They say there's going to be a storm.” She gestured up to the sky and laughed. “I imagine you'd know all about those lord Renly. I'm told you're quite the expert on bad weather?”

Renly laughed and glanced up at the sky. There were indeed black clouds moving in from the east, no doubt, Renly suspected with a pang of homesickness, the remnants of a storm that had started over Shipbreaker bay and had mostly blown itself out as it travelled inland. Hardly worthy of being called a storm though. He grinned. “I'd say heavy rain at the worst perhaps?”

She laughed. “Loras used to tell me often how terrible the weather was down in Storm's End. I think he used to despair.”

Renly smiled wryly. “He did seem to rather hate the rain. I should imagine he's rather glad to be back in the Reach, where it's sunny.” He glanced up again at the darkening sky. “Usually.” He added with a dry laugh.

She laughed and shrugged. “I don't think so. He used to write so often these past few months that he didn't want to come home.” She sighed deeply. “And much to father's disappointment, I'll doubt he'll stay long.”

That was news to Renly and rather surprised him. He'd heard nothing of any plans Loras had to leave Highgarden. “And come to court I suppose?” he asked mildly, not liking to get his hopes up. 

She nodded and they fell again into a comfortable silence, Margaery picking half-heartedly at her sewing and Renly contenting himself with gazing absent-mindedly at the darkening sky.

Her words warmed Renly though. He hadn't much liked Kings Landing without Loras and the thought of him taking up any kind of permanent residence at court made the future seem that little bit brighter. He supposed he ought not to be surprised though at the fact that the idea had crossed Loras' mind and that he shouldn't automatically assume that it had anything to do with him either. Anyone who took competing in tournaments remotely seriously seemed to end up sooner or later in the capital.

Margaery spoke again after a while, dropping her sewing once more as the rain got heavier, dripping now through the swing roof. “Do you think we should go and look for him?” she asked.

Renly knew immediately who she was referring to and yet he couldn't help but feign confusion. "For who?" he asked pleasantly, rather grateful for his years of experience at pretending and lying.

"For Loras." she smiled and if she saw through his attempts to seem nonchalent about it, she didn't show it. 

Renly bit back a sigh. He supposed it couldn't hurt to renew his search for Loras even though he personally felt they had little hope now of finding him before dusk fell. He felt rather embarrassed though at her question, which he took to be a rather indirect confirmation of Margaery being aware of the fact that Renly was perhaps a little more than simply a friend of Loras' who he had brought to stay. Her help could be invaluable though he supposed, and besides the idea after all of going to bed alone and with Loras still angry at him made him feel all too miserable.

“Alright.” he said eventually, shrugging and doing his best to sound as if it wasn't particularly important to him and that seeking out Loras was merely perhaps an amusing distraction.

And so they headed off together, Margaery, to his surprise, seeming to care rather little that her dress was no doubt being quickly ruined by the falling rain.

“Do you not have any idea where he might be?” Margaery asked, after they had systematically searched most of the grounds within the castle's inner walls.

Renly shrugged. “I had thought he might be where you and I ran into each other. He did tell me after all that that was one of his favourite places when showing me around.” He bit back a telling sigh. “But not his complete favourite, he said. I'd look there if I were you. Not that I have any idea where that might be.”

Margaery laughed. “I do though.” To his surprise, she took Renly's arm and all but dragged him across the courtyard, through the castle gates and down towards the banks of the river. The grass was long and wild here, a far cry from the immaculatey sculpted lawns they'd just come from, and Margaery lifted her skirts as she pushed a path through it. 

They came soon to a large willow tree, whose long sweeping branches brushed the ground. Margaery laughed and pushed some of the branches aside, creating a gap in the dark green curtain of leaves. She stepped through herself first and then held the branches back so Renly could join her.

It was quite enchanting, Renly thought, when he stepped through after her and Margaery let the branches fall back into place. The trunk stood a few feet away, its branches falling all around to create a small open space beneath the canopy of leaves, completely sheltered from the outside world. 

To his disappointment though, it was empty.

Margaery sighed. “I suppose that's that then.” She leant against the trunk. “This was all my sibling's favourite place when we were younger.” she told him. “Willas used to take me and Loras here and make up stories with us.”

Renly laughed hollowly. “Sounds good fun.” He couldn't summon up the energy to be overly cheerful though, not when he still hadn't made things right with Loras.

To Renly's embarassment, Margaery must have realised this for she didn't try to make small talk on the way back and left him at the stairs to his chambers with a smile before turning back to return most like to her own.

He climbed the steps rather miserably, stripping off his wet clothes when he got inside and changing into his night clothes for what seemed like the first time in a long time. He bit back a sigh. The garments were something he didn't usually bother wearing whenever Loras was with him, probably something to do with the fact that any clothes he wore to bed with Loras usually ended up on the floor rather quickly.

He didn't go to bed straight away but instead sat on the window ledge as Loras often did and watched the rain stream down the window panes, hoping that wherever Loras was, he wasn't outside. Hopefully, Renly thought, he had returned to his chambers where it was warm and dry, and whilst it stung that he evidently still didn't want to speak to him yet, that was a better thought than imagining him cold and wet somewhere in the grounds.

He waited until night had completely fallen before climbing into bed, leaving the door optimistically ajar in case Loras changed his mind about being angry at him. He wasn't hopeful though, and whilst he tried to stay awake for a good long time, listening intently for footsteps on the stairs, eventually he realised he was wasting his time and rolled over to go to sleep.

He was awoken however a few hours before dawn by a quiet voice calling his name. Renly groaned, and rolled over, wondering if he'd imagined it.

“Renly” the voice hissed again and this time Renly was awake enough to know it could only be Loras.

“Mm-hmm” he mumbled thickly, sitting up and hearing the door creak open.

He didn't know where Loras had been but wherever it was, it had certainly not been his chambers, for even in the dim moonlight that was creeping through the curtains it was clear he was soaked to the skin, his wet clothes sticking to his skin and his curls dripping onto the carpets. Renly wanted to go to him and take him in his arms and yet the rather wary expression on Loras' face warned him this might not go down altogether too well.

And so neither of them spoke for a good few moments, Loras looking determinedly down at his feet and Renly not knowing whether he should break the silence or wait until Loras decided he wanted to say something.

Eventually though, Renly couldn't bear it any longer and so he got to his feet and closed the distance between them, tilting Loras' face up and kissing him lightly. Loras didn't pull away, but neither did he particularly respond and so Renly pulled back, the silence resuming.

He brushed a wet curl out of Loras' face. “You're soaked Loras,” he whispered. “You're going to catch your death.” He began to undo the laces on Loras' shirt, thinking that at the very least, he could try and get Loras into some dry clothes.

Loras just shrugged at his words but let Renly pull the wet garments over his head with relatively good grace, not complaining either when Renly rubbed him dry with the bathing towel. He wasn't shivering but his skin was rather icy to the touch and his fingers seemed frozen.

The silence continued as Renly went to the wardrobe and rifled past the silks and thin cottons until he pulled out one of the warmer garments he'd brought with him, the colour of which Renly couldn't quite make out in the dark but which might have been dark blue or purple. He supposed though that the colour probably wasn't very important right now and instead of dithering over his choice as he usually did, tugged it over Loras head without further ado. It was much too big for him and what was lovely tailoring on Renly looked more like Renly had wrapped a coloured sheet around Loras. 

A long moment passed, the silence stretching on uncomfortably. “I'm sorry Loras.” Renly started, unable to bear the tension between them any longer and thinking that as good a place to start as any. “I shouldn't have said that about Margaery. I don't know anything about your father's plans for her.”

“s'alright.” Loras mumbled. “I shouldn't have got angry like that.” He shifted uncomfortably and Renly knew that was the closest that he'd ever get from an apology out of him. “And I know that you're not going to marry the princess, that you don't want to.”

Renly led him back to bed. “Let's just forget about it shall we? Not talk about it any more?” He guided Loras into bed and bundled him up under the covers before climbing in beside him. “I hate it when we argue.” 

“Alright.” Loras whispered back and Renly was disappointed to see that he kept to his side of the bed for once, not coming to lie close with him as he usually did. He contemplated closing the gap himself, desperate to wrap his arms around him and kiss him until he was sure Loras was no longer upset with him, and yet he couldn't help but wonder whether it was perhaps better to give Loras his space if that's what he seemed to want. 

Plagued by indecisiveness, he curled up on his side of the bed and focused instead on getting back to sleep, hoping things would be better by the morning. 

Renly was just dropping off though when Loras did close the gap between them, sliding his hands around Renly's waist and burying his face in his neck.

“I've changed my mind,” he breathed after a few moments. “I think perhaps it's better if we do talk about it.”

“Talk about what?” Renly asked sleepily, kissing his wet curls and pulling him closer, glad when Loras wrapped his arms even more tightly around his chest and pressed himself against him. It was a relief to have him close again and Renly wasn't about to let him go anywhere anytime soon.

“About what we argued over.” Loras whispered. “About you getting married.”

Renly laughed softly. “What is there to talk about? I promise you, I've no intention of marrying any time soon. I told you that.”

“But you will one day you said.” Loras insisted, resting his head on Renly's shoulder and sighing deeply. “Which I guess I always knew was the case really.”

Renly sighed. “I dare say one day, yes I'll have to marry. But let's not dwell on it Loras.”

Loras was quiet for a good long moment and when he spoke, the question was one that surprised Renly.

“And when that happens,” Loras whispered. “What will happen to me?”

Renly pulled him close while he thought about that. It was something that he'd never really contemplated and yet something that when he did, had only one answer really. As much as one ought to take their marriage vows seriously, the prospect of being without Loras was cosiderably worse than breaking any vow he might have made. “I assume we'd do as we do now, irregardless of the fact I was wed.” he whispered back. “If you still wanted to.” he added hastily, remembering what Loras had said earlier about how he would not consent to being Renly's paramour.

Loras sighed. “Be your lover behind your wife's back? Sneak into your chambers when she's not looking? And leave the next morning before I'm seen?” He looked a little miserable for a moment and Renly felt suddenly terrible.

“Would you do it?” Renly asked tentatively, dreading the answer. 

To his relief Loras nodded. “Yes I'd do it Renly.” He sighed deeply. “What other choice would I have?”

Renly hesitated. “Well you could find somebody else,” he said miserably. “somebody who didn't have to get married.”

Loras stared at him. “Don't ever say that again Renly.” His voice was rather fierce. “Why ever should I find someone else?”

Renly sighed. “You know Loras. I worried that you might when you left to come home.”

“Why would you think that?” Loras' eyes were wide and rather disbelieving.

Renly shrugged. “Well we'd never told each other not to and...” he hesitated. “I thought you might find yourself wanting to. You know, when you didn't have me to.. well satisfy you.”

Loras looked puzzled. “Is that how you think of what we do Renly? As _satisfying_ me?” He wrapped his arms almost painfully tightly around Renly's waist and drew him back to him.

Renly shook his head and let Loras hold him. “Well no. But I did worry all the same.”

Loras laughed ruefully under his breath. “You are rather foolish sometimes Renly.” 

“But you must have had desires,” Renly insisted. “When I wasn't here.”

“And you didn't too?” Loras raised an eyebrow and didn't loosen his grip on Renly's waist. “We weren't apart that long. I made do.” He smirked, and keeping one arm wrapped tightly around him still, slipped a hand in between them. "Would you like me to show you how?" 

Renly grinned and moved his own hands down to the small of Loras' back. "I'm sure I would." he laughed, shifting to lean down and kiss him.

"Well tough luck." Loras laughed softly under his breath and moved his hand back to Renly's waist, turning his face slightly so that Renly's kiss only caught his cheek . "I'm exhausted, and these clothes of yours don't seem to have a hem." 

Renly felt a little disappointed and yet seeing as Loras had most likely not slept since the night before, supposed that it was probably silly of him to have got his hopes up in the first place. He did his best though to ignore the desire pooling in his stomach. Instead he held Loras tightly and although he couldn't help but wince slightly, didn't even pull away when Loras insisted on pressing his still icy hands and feet against him.

“I was worried this evening.” Renly admitted once Loras seemed settled against his chest. “That you weren't going to come back. That I'd pushed you away.”

Loras gazed up at him, his expression soft now. “You'd have to try harder than that.” he breathed with a soft laugh, kissing the hollow at the base of Renly's throat.

Renly smiled and tipped his head back to kiss him, relieved this time when Loras returned it, his mouth warm and willing against Renly's own before he then curled back into Renly's chest.

His cock stirred again at that and Renly was about to lean back in and kiss him a second time when Loras yawned softly against Renly's neck, a gentle reminder perhaps on Loras' part that he wanted to go to sleep. Renly sighed. He'd have liked nothing more than to make love to him, softly and gently until Loras whispered his name into his chest over and over again. But gazing down at him now, he supposed that he couldn't bear to move him; for once Loras looked completely worn out, exhausted and pale against him, his eyes already closed. 

And so Renly merely tucked the covers back up around him before too settling down to go back to sleep, Loras' breathing warm against his neck. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would just like to take the chance to thank everyone who's kind enough to comment on this story :) Really, without you guys and your lovely feedback this story would never be written so I'm so grateful!


	59. Chapter 59

Unsurprisingly perhaps, Loras was still asleep when Renly awoke the next morning, still curled into Renly's side, but with his arms now loosely around Renly's neck.

It was one of Renly's favourite things to see Loras sleeping, perhaps because it happened so infrequently, but perhaps also because there seemed to be a vulnerability in sleep that Renly didn't often see in Loras, what with his sharp tongue and even sharper temper. Sometimes even, Renly found himself imagining that Loras didn't even _need_ to sleep, that unlike most men who were mere mortals, Loras simply ran on pure energy, moving from day to day without ever getting tired, or exhausted, or worn out. And it was only when Renly caught those rare glimpses of Loras when he was _properly_ asleep, not resting with his eyes closed as he would often do after Renly made love to him, but truly and properly oblivious to the world around him, that he remembered that Loras wasn't indestructible or invincible, that he did get tired, did get exhausted, did get worn out and that Loras was perhaps just better at hiding it than he was. 

And thus it felt somehow wrong to see Loras asleep, disconcerting almost, as if he was stripping him naked without his permission, seeing a side of Loras that Loras would never want him to see, one where he was laid vulnerable, helpless even perhaps, like everyone became when they shut their eyes at night. It was thrilling too somehow though, and perhaps that was why he couldn't help but watch him whenever Loras did allow him to see him like this, feeling the sort of excitement one got when they knew they were doing something they weren't supposed to.

Renly smiled and untangling himself gently, rifled a hand through his curls as he watched his eyelids flutter. The rain had made a real mess of Loras' hair last night it seemed, turning what was usually corkscrew curls practically wild. Loras, when he woke, would no doubt sigh and call it a frizzy mess and say he looked terrible and yet Renly didn't think he'd seen anything  or anyone more beautiful, even with his curls fanned out rather wildly around his face and his body wrapped in clothes that were so ill fitting, one might say he looked ridiculous.

He sighed softly as he watched Loras' chest slowly rise and fall. He'd thought him a lovely looking child when he'd first known him and he remembered himself wondering whether he'd always be rather feminine and delicate looking even when he grew up. He'd thought he probably would be at the time and yet there was nothing soft or delicate about Loras now it seemed. He traced the line of his jaw absent-mindedly, wondering how on earth it were possibly that the gods had seen fit to make anyone quite so glorious-looking. 

Leaning down to kiss him on the cheek, he pushed up the tunic of his own that he'd put on Loras last night and that Loras had complained he couldn't find a hem to. It was no wonder, Renly thought, for it was halfway down Loras' thighs. He pushed it up now, careful not to wake him. Loras was completely bare underneath and Renly couldn't help but feel again that he was intruding, looking and touching where he oughtn’t, even though he knew there wasn't a part of Loras that he hadn't touched before or that Loras wouldn't want him touching. 

Pushing the tunic up past Loras' hips, Renly was mildly surprised to see he was half hard and he smiled, wondering if he was dreaming about him. He didn't touch though, thinking that perhaps an intrusion too far, and instead leant down to kiss his stomach gently before resting his head against Loras' chest.

He didn't move until Loras woke, a good few hours later, stirring and trying to roll over before he seemingly realised that there was a weight on his chest that was preventing this. Instead of doing what Renly would have probably done and groaning and trying to go back to sleep, he merely yawned though and reached dow to run his fingers through Renly's hair.

Renly grinned even though Loras wouldn't be able to see his expression. “Morning,”

Loras laughed sleepily, and continued running his hands through Renly's hair.

“Do you want me to move?” Renly asked, without raising his head.

“Nah it's alright.” Loras yawned again.

Renly laughed and taking that as an invitation, rolled over onto him.

Loras laughed breathlessly. “Gods you're heavy Renly.” He didn't try to push him off him though and just put his hands back in Renly's hair happy as anything and resumed untangling the knots.

Renly grinned and propping himself up on his elbows, took most of his weight of Loras. “Is that better?” he asked, kissing Loras on the side of his mouth.

Loras smirked and merely knotted his hands more tightly in Renly's hair, guiding him down to kiss him once more. It was less chaste this time, and Renly could feel Loras already growing hard against his stomach, a sure clue to what Loras was after.

Renly smiled into the kiss and, brushing a curl out of Loras' face, knotted his own hands in Loras' hair, finding them distinctly less silkly than usual but not caring in the slightest.

Loras just sighed ever so softly and shifting underneath Renly slightly, nudged one of Renly's legs in between his own. Renly smiled against his cheek, slipping a hand in between them and taking Loras in hand, his smile widening at Loras' sharp intake of breath when he moved his hand just-so in the way he knew Loras liked.

He undressed him slowly, kneeling in between Loras' legs so he could push the tunic up over Loras' head, and then staying put so that Loras could undo the buttons on Renly's own clothes.

“Why did you ever wear clothes to bed?” Loras breathed as he slipped Renly's night-clothes from his shoulders.

Renly laughed and leant back down to kiss him. “Because you weren't here.” he whispered against Loras' ear, rifling his fingers once more through Loras' already tangled curls.

They didn't talk any more after that, Loras instead nudging Renly back to in between his legs and tipping his head back, an invitation Renly thought, for him to kiss his neck and bite very softly at the delicate skin there. And for once, Renly didn't even tease him, finding the small vial of oil from under the pillow when Loras asked him to and sliding a couple of fingers into him without making him beg for it.

It wasn't long before Renly took him properly, his mouth never leaving Loras' as they rocked together, slowly and deliberately, Loras' legs wrapped around Renly's hips so tightly that when Renly glanced down, he could have believed them of one body. Renly took his time, pressing soft kisses to every part of Loras he could reach and tracing patterns against Loras' skin with his fingertips until Loras was whispering his name into his mouth and telling him that he loved him over and over again.

Renly whispered his own words back, the words mingling with Loras' until all Renly could hear was Loras' voice in his ear and all he could feel was Loras' warmth against his own.

They didn't part even when both of them were spent and Renly held him close, burying his head in Loras' neck and pulling Loras' arms around him before tugging the covers back over them and settling down to go back to sleep despite the sunlight streaming in through the window.

 

…....................

It seemed like only moments that Renly was asleep and yet when he woke up, his head was now in Loras' lap, Loras appearing to be fully dressed and his curls most likely just-washed judging from the steady way they were dripping onto Renly's forehead.

He laughed and sat up. “Is that how you wake your ex-liege lord?”

Loras smiled and shook his head pointedly, sending drops of water flying into Renly's face. “Most definitely.” he smirked, bending over him to kiss the droplets of water from Renly's skin.

Renly laughed and let him do as he pleased before rolling over onto his stomach and propping himself up with his elbows. “Where did you go yesterday?” he asked. "I have to know."

Loras laughed. “Well that would be telling wouldn't it?”

“Please?” Renly laughed. “I looked everywhere it seemed. I don't understand how I didn't find you. Unless you left Highgarden.” He frowned. “You didn't leave Highgarden did you?”

Loras grinned. “No I didn't. And that was a sneaky move recruiting my sister.”

Renly gulped. “I didn't _recruit_ your sister. If anything she recruited me.” He eyed Loras suspiciously. “And anyway how do you know that I recruited your sister?”

Loras raised an eyebrow. “Well whoever recruited who, that was below the belt, you two joining forces against me.”

“Well she wasn't much use.” Renly retorted, thinking back to his and Margaery's woefully unsuccessful search.

Loras laughed. “She was more use than you realise.” He sighed. 

Renly frowned, confused. “What ever do you mean?”

“I mean that you and Margaery literally walked straight past me.”

Renly's frown deepened, the pieces of the puzzle refusing to fall into place. "Where?"

Loras shrugged but there was a faint trace of a grin on his face. “I shan't tell you.” he teased, getting up and tugging Renly to his feet. “Now get up. We'd better descend soon, or my parent's might think I've died or something, especially considering I wasn't at dinner yesterday.”

He seemed in a blissfully happy mood, which considering the sulk he had been in yesterday, was a real miracle, Renly thought. And so not wanting to ruin that, he chose what he was going to wear as quickly as his rather fussy taste allowed him to.

“Margaery mentioned you were thinking about perhaps coming to court?” Renly asked as he fastened the gold buttons on his doublet, pinning a matching stag brooch into place.

“It was an idea.” Loras smiled up at him, now lounging lazily across the bed as he watched Renly get ready. “Would you want me to?”

“More than anything” Renly sighed, coming back over and leaning down to kiss him. He had intended it as a brief affair and yet within a few moments, Renly had found his hands meandering back to Loras' damp hair, Loras nipping slightly at his bottom lip as Renly found himself melting back into Loras' embrace.

Had Renly not momentarily forgotten how to breathe, they might never have parted, but as it was, Loras pushed him gently back up onto his feet when he evidently thought Renly had become a little too breathless, smirking slightly at what Renly supposed must have been a rather amusing sight with him dressed only in a very fine doublet and nothing else.

“Then I shall.” Loras said simply, after he had set Renly back upright. It took Renly a good few moments to remember what they had been talking about, and he found his grin widening as he remembered they'd been discussing Loras coming to court.

“Nothing would please me more.” he laughed, returning to the wardrobe and rifling through until he found a clean pair of breeches. “It wouldn't be easy though.” he warned, thinking it was probably his responsibility to at least be honest with him even if it did run the risk of spoiling Loras' good mood. “We wouldn't be able to share chambers almost everyday like this. Everything we did would have to very much be behind closed doors.”

Loras raised an eyebrow. “As in the skirting around darkened corridors and sneaking into each other's chambers sort of thing? Like how you'll say it'll be when you marry?”

Renly shrugged and pulled his breeches up. “Not dissimilar I guess.”

Loras sighed deeply. “In which case, it's probably a good idea we get some practice in.” His smile faltered ever so briefly and yet by the time Renly glanced back at him, it had returned in its full glory. “I can come when you're back from Dorne if you like?”

Renly laughed. “The sooner the better as far as I'm concerned.” He sighed. “But _why?_ ” He couldn't help but ask. “You've got everything here. It's beyond lovely. If I lived here, I'd never leave.”

Loras raised an eyebrow. “I don't have _everything_ here.” He laughed. “You're not here. _You're_ in King's Landing.”

Renly sighed. “Did I ever tell you how wonderful you are Loras?”

“Yes.” Loras said bluntly.

Renly laughed. “Well I certainly don't tell you often enough.” He sank back down onto the bed beside him, his thoughts becoming serious again despite his best efforts. He cupped Loras' cheek gently. “How it'll be in Kings Landing Loras, well that's not how I would want things to be. You know that Loras?” He ran a finger over Loras' cheek. “If I had my way then things would be, well...”

“Well what?” Loras laughed.

“...well things would be different I guess.” Renly kissed Loras' nose, laughing when Loras screwed up his face and tried to escape from him.

Loras shrugged when he was far enough away that Renly couldn't possibly kiss his nose again. “It's not your fault things are the way they are.” He got to his feet and pulled Renly up for what seemed the hundredth time that day. “We'll manage.” he said cheerfully, sounding oddly like his brother Garlan, Renly thought.

“You think Loras?” Renly asked, feeling more optimistic than he had done since Loras had been his squire. “You really think that?”

“Of course I do.” Loras smiled at him and Renly could only smile back at the promise in his eyes, safe in the knowledge that whilst Loras was at his side, nothing could ever truly be wrong with the world.


	60. Chapter 60

With the wedding approaching fast, Renly and Loras did their best to stay out of the way as much as possible, for if Renly had thought Highgarden a busy place originally, there were perhaps no words to describe it now. Everywhere people were coming and going, some striding purposefully through corridors with casks of wine in their arms or carrying crates of fruit between them, whilst others seemed to be doing nothing more than milling about lazily, discussing flower arrangements and who should sit where at the feast. A relative army of singers and fools too seemed to have descended on Highgarden and everywhere Renly and Loras found themselves, one would break into song at their approach, or start juggling with apples that they'd just pulled out of his pockets. 

Renly found it all rather amusing, and so did Loras at first, but by the day before the wedding Renly couldn't help but fear Loras might be in danger of taking one of the juggler's apples and shoving it down his throat if they had to hear one more witty limerick about Highgarden roses and Fossoway apples and the two growing together in harmony. 

And so, seeing another fool approach in the corridor, Renly quickly steered Loras through the nearest door, shutting it loudly behind them before Loras could lose his temper. The fool did not seem deterred though, his voice sailing through the wood of the door as he sang this time about the beauty of Highgarden. 

Renly laughed, leaning heavily against the door in case the fool tried to follow as Loras seethed, pacing up and down with his hand on the hilt of his sword. Eventually, the fool moved on and Renly grinned as he heard the voice of Loras' grandmother berating the fool angrily for not being able to shut up once in a while. 

Renly sighed with relief as the fool's singing came to an abrupt end and he turned to Loras. “So what's on the agenda today?” he asked, thinking that Loras would probably have this day as planned as all the previous ones. 

Loras shrugged. “Nothing for once. I was thinking of heading down to the training yard. If I don't hit something soon, I might just run one of those singers right through.” He grimaced and ran a hand through his hair. “Want to come and watch?”

Renly laughed. He could well believe that Loras might do just that if another singer pursued him in the corridor. He wasn't much in the mood for sitting around and watching though. Loras was beautiful to watch and yet Renly just found himself getting steadily more wound up until he was rather jealous of Loras' opponents for the mere crime of getting to stand rather close to him. He grinned. “I'll come join in if you'll have me.” he offered, surprising himself slightly seeing as it had been longer than he could remember since he'd picked up a sword in any seriousness.

Loras laughed. “You're joking?”

“I am not.” Renly retorted adamantly. “Well would you have me?”

Loras grinned and laughed. “Of course I would. It's not like anyone around here save Garlan is decent sport anyway.”

Renly poked him, grinning widely. “Was that an insult?”

Loras shrugged coyly. “Perhaps.” He laughed and almost dragged Renly down the corridor and back up to Renly's chambers where Renly picked up his sword, before dragging him straight back down again and out of a side door.

Loras seemed to be sure of where they were going and yet Renly was surprised at the route Loras seemed to be taking. He was just getting his bearings around Highgarden and as far as he was aware, they weren't heading anywhere near the direction of the training yard. 

Indeed, it soon transpired that Loras was leading him out of Highgarden, dragging him along the path until they they came to the orchards and fields that lay to the south of the castle. 

“Here should do,” Loras said, gesturing over a rather tall fence to a field which had just been harvested.

It seemed as good a place as any to practice with a sword and yet glancing to the left and then to the right, Renly was a little concerned to see that there didn't appear to be a gate into this field of Loras' choosing.

Renly laughed and leant against the fence. “You don't expect me to climb over this do you?”

Loras grinned. “Think of it as a warm up?”

Renly sighed and turned to study the fence. It was just about tall enough for Loras to see over and conveniently had no rungs upon which they could put his feet. He supposed he'd have to pull himself up and then swing a leg over, a rather taxing ordeal as far as he was concerned. He suddenly wished that he had as much upper body strength as Robert had done at his age.

He laughed and placed both hands on the top of the fence, testing whether it would hold his weight and wondering whether he'd embarrass himself trying to get over it.

“You'll be fine.” Loras leant against the fence and smiled up at him lazily. “You're easily strong enough to pull yourself up there.” He smirked. “I should know.”

Renly grinned and turned round to face him. “And how's that?” He moved his hands from the fence to Loras' shoulders, leaning in so that his lips almost brushed Loras' cheek.

Loras tilted his head so that Renly's mouth was now inches from Loras' own.“You're always throwing me around.” he said, laughing very softly under his breath and leaning in to close the gap between them. 

It was very brief and before Renly could really react and tug him closer Loras had pulled away again and was pulling himself up onto the fence, surprising Renly with quite how effortless it seemed to be for him. 

Renly sighed and pulled himself up after him. It was easier than he expected, and he managed it surprisingly elegantly, swinging both legs over and then dropping down on the other side. 

He had expected that they might find a suitable spot first or perhaps go over the rules or something, and yet Loras didn't seem to feel the same way. By the time Renly had turned around and had brushed off the dirt from his hands, Loras was standing a few yards away, his sword already drawn. 

Hurriedly, Renly drew his own sword and stepped backwards, keen to increase the distance between them as fast as possible. He'd given no thought as of yet as to the approach he was going to take and it seemed that Loras wasn't planning on giving him any time to do so. As such, he was in no hurry to make the first move; he'd leave that to Loras and his impatience.

As Renly had expected though, Loras seemed in no mood to let Renly escape, stepping forward to re-close the gap between them with a knowing smirk on his face.

Renly grinned and stepped deliberately back again. 

Loras laughed. “If I didn't know better, I'd say you were afraid of me.”

Renly raised an eyebrow. He wasn't afraid of Loras, not in the slightest. On reflection though, this lack of caution was perhaps silly of him, considering that neither of them were armoured and one of the best knights Renly had ever laid eyes on was brandishing a sword at him. 

Loras laughed at his lack of response, and before Renly could take another defiant step backwards, he'd closed the gap between them, meeting him in a loud clash of steel, their swords locking together. He surprised Renly though when he threw his weight behind it, pushing up against Renly's blade as if he might be able to force Renly to bend. He was stronger than Renly would have expected, and yet Renly knew that there was no chance of him buckling under Loras' strength. He smiled and gave as good as Loras was giving, moving to hold his sword with both hands.

Grinning, he threw Loras back, Loras finding his footing easily and skirting round him before Renly could even regain his balance.

“I see you're still stronger than me.” There was laughter in Loras' eyes as he twisted back round to face him. “It's no matter.” He grinned. “I'll still win.”

Renly rolled his eyes and stepped back hastily. There had never been any question of whether Loras would win or not. He supposed though that he should try to at least give him good sport and so he wheeled back round to meet the steel, unsurprised this time when Loras' sword merely glanced off his own, Loras now aware that there was more point him trying to best Renly with strength now than there had been when he was twelve. 

Loras was unrelenting and Renly wondered fleetingly whether he ought to reassess his lack of fear as Loras' blade whistled past his ear time and time again, Renly only just about able to move fast enough to avoid his blows, sidestepping round him as quickly as his legs would carry him.

Loras seemed to find this very amusing, for he merely laughed as Renly continued to skirt round him, rather shamefully not being able to even find enough of a gap in Loras' onslaught to even attempt trying to land a blow of his own. 

And the gaps in his defence must have been terrible indeed, for whilst Renly managed to successfully block the next blow Loras threw at him, somehow Loras' hand ended up on his stomach, warm fingers edging their way up Renly's shirt even as Renly held his sword at bay.

Loras smirked when Renly glanced down at the offending hand and didn't draw back his sword, instead leaning his weight against him, his fingers changing direction now and brushing beneath the waistband of Renly's breeches.

Renly sighed deeply, half hoping that Loras would think it a good idea to leave the fighting here for now and push his hand properly down his breeches. 

He should have known better than to hope though for Loras didn't indulge him long, his fingers dipping tantalisingly lower for a mere few moments before he then laughed softly, leaning in slightly and pressing a kiss to the underside of Renly's jaw before then stepping back.

He was kind enough to give Renly a few moments to collect himself before he resumed his attacks, Renly stepping out of the way just in time as Loras brought his sword down worryingly close to Renly's thigh.

It was odd now stepping away from him, Renly thought, when all he wanted to do was to close the gap between them and beg Loras to put his hand back down his breeches. His concentration was suffering now too, Renly's eyes lingering more on how Loras' thin cotton shirt was sticking slightly to his skin rather than paying much attention to Loras' attacks.

Loras too though was breathing rather heavily now and Renly suspected it probably wasn't from exertion. Indeed when their eyes met, Renly parrying one of Loras' blows clumsily, his pulse quickened to see that Loras' eyes were dark with desire like Renly suspected his own were. 

He didn't let up though and if anything, he upped his game, raining down blows as Renly desperately tried to avoid getting one of his limbs sliced off. He was rather alarmingly aware now of quite how sharp Loras' sword was and couldn't help but wince as it whistled past Renly's hips, catching the fabric of Renly's shirt and slicing clean through it. 

He didn't even have time to assess the damage though before Loras was on him again, his blade hurtling towards Renly's face. Ducking, Renly brought his own blade swinging round, hoping that Loras did indeed move otherwise he had a good chance of having his legs cut out from underneath him by Renly's sword, a guilt Renly knew he wouldn't be able to live with. As he knew he would though, Loras did move, darting sideways out of Renly's view and leaving Renly's blade cutting through thin air in his wake.

The next thing Renly knew, his blade was on the floor and Loras' sword was pressed against his throat, the steel cold against his neck.

“Well what do we have here?” Loras murmured softly against his ear and despite the steel against his neck, or perhaps even because of it, Renly felt his pulse begin to race even faster. His breath hitched once more as Loras pressed a very gentle kiss to the soft skin beneath Renly's ear, and Renly took a deep breath, knowing that if Loras so chose, he could slit his throat with the mere flick of his wrist. 

Loras didn't draw back his sword even as he pushed Renly back against the grass, slowly and cautiously, and with more strength than Renly knew him to possess as he moved to sit astride Renly's thighs.

The steel was still cold against his flushed skin as Loras shifted slightly on top of him and Renly gulped, desperate to sit up and push Loras' hands down inside his breeches. Loras must have read his thoughts though, for the steel pressed a little harder to his neck and Renly wondered briefly again whether he ought to be terrified instead of painfully aroused.

It seemed though that Loras was willing to be kind as well as cruel and Renly just whimpered as Loras pulled the laces out of his breeches painstakingly slowly, one by one, his warm fingers dancing lower and lower.

“Please?” he gasped as Loras' fingers ground to a painful halt just inches from Renly's cock. Loras didn't answer though, and Renly took the steel biting slightly harder into his neck to be the only response he was going to get.

He duly hushed, his heart pounding in his ears as he desperately tried to work out what Loras was doing, the rustling of Loras' fingers against the fabric of his breeches the only information he had to work with.

He couldn't help but gasp when Loras eventually ceased his teasing, his free hand sliding down to wrap around his cock even as he took him into his mouth, his tongue warm and willing as it licked along his length. 

Renly did his best to stay still, vaguely aware still of the steel at his throat, and yet every inch of him was telling him to move, to thrust his hips upwards and push Loras' head down. And perhaps Loras could feel the tension building in his hips for Renly felt him laugh slightly before taking Renly deeper, his hand moving faster around him, sliding easily with the wetness from his mouth.

Renly just groaned and let the sensation wash over him as he stared helplessly up at the sky. He wouldn't last long like this, not with Loras' mouth warm and wet around him and his hand tightening its grip. He was fighting now to keep his control, rather too wound up by Loras' touch to think of anything save his release even despite the cold metal at his throat.

Loras must have realised he was close and in danger of slicing his own throat open, for very very slowly, in a complete contrast to what he was doing with his mouth, he drew back his sword from Renly's neck, his hands still as steady as anything.

Renly didn't know whether to be relieved or slightly disappointed as Loras placed the blade on the grass, and yet he didn't have much time to dwell on it, for with a twist of Loras' hand, he was tipping over the edge, arching his back as he spilled into Loras' mouth. He shivered as Loras licked him clean, letting him finish up before pulling him down on top of him “You are incredible.” he whispered. “Even though I thought you might kill me.” 

Loras laughed softly and kissed the corner of his mouth. “You didn't actually think I was going to kill you did you?”

Renly grinned. “It crossed my mind.” 

Loras rubbed his jaw affectionately. “You may have slightly less stubble on this side, but I'd never have seriously hurt you.”

“I know” Renly breathed, sounding rather more confident than he had earlier felt as he closed his eyes and savoured the rather satisfying way Loras was still rubbing firm circles against his throat, chasing away the coldness of the steel with his warm fingers. 

He was in danger of falling asleep when Loras eventually stopped, shaking Renly gently as if he feared he had already drifted off. 

Renly opened his eyes reluctantly and let Loras pull him to his feet. “Do you want me to return the favour?” He asked, feeling rather guilty now as he realised Loras hadn't had any release of his own. 

Loras laughed. “I'm fine. Sort me out when we get back?” He had led Renly back to the fence and was studying it intently. The ground was lower on this side and Renly raised an eyebrow.

“Could we maybe just find a gate this time round?” Renly asked mildly, feeling way too sleepy to attempt vaulting over a fence again.

Loras looked said fence up and down again a few more times before taking Renly's wrist and nodding. ”If you like.” He interlaced their fingers as he took a seemingly random guess at where the nearest gate might be.

“You're really not bad Renly.” Loras commented as they walked on, squeezing his hand. “You should practice more.”

Renly laughed. “I know I'm not bad.” He laughed. “It's just you who's rather quite good.” He raised an eyebrow. “I assumed you were going rather easy on me actually.”

“Not particularly,” Loras admitted. “Though I concede, I wasn't really concentrating very much. At least not on the sword-fighting part.”

Renly smiled and looped his fingers around Loras' wrist. “I'm glad to see that I'm capable of distracting you then even if I can't match your skill!”

Loras laughed and let Renly push him gently up against the fence and kiss him. “Always”


	61. Chapter 61

They headed back straight to Renly's rooms, Renly not particularly keen to descend for dinner with bits of grass and mud stuck in his hair. On another day he might have made do with giving his hair a good brush and hoping that nobody looked too closely but considering that in their absence high-born guests would have been pouring into Highgarden all afternoon, all eager to witness the union of Garlan and Leonette tomorrow, Renly couldn't bear to look anything less than perfect. And as charming as Renly knew he could be, he imagined that even he would be hard pushed to make a good first impression when he looked like he'd been dragged through a hedge backwards.

Loras and he parted ways at the foot of the stairs, Loras insistent that he would arrange for hot water to be brought up seeing as Renly had proved to be so incompetent last time. Renly contemplated denying that and yet when he thought back to his rather useless attempts in Oldtown, he did have to concede that Loras had a point.

And with Loras' usual efficiency, Renly had only just sat down in his rooms by the time two serving girls were knocking on the door with pails of hot water to fill the large tub in the corner.

Loras himself turned up just as Renly was stepping into the tub, pushing the door open without any warning and grinning when he saw that Renly wasn't wearing anything.

Renly just laughed. When he'd been growing up he'd always been rather fond of his privacy and yet that wasn't something that ever stretched to Loras. He was quite sure that he could probably spend every minute of every day with Loras and never get bored. Whether Loras would agree with that however, Renly wasn't so sure.

Loras stretched out on the bed lazily as Renly sank down into the water. “They were quick.” Loras commented, rolling over onto his front and propping himself up on his elbows.

Renly laughed. “They were. No thanks to me.” He grinned at him. “I'm very grateful Loras, but we really must stop this way you run circles around me and fetch everything.”

Loras shrugged, his curls flopping over his forehead. “I've told you I don't mind.”

Renly laughed and began rubbing soap into his hair, pulling out strands of grass as he did so.“Yes but I mind. You're knighted now. That makes us equals. You shouldn't have to still be looking after me.”

Loras raised an eyebrow and laughed. “I'd hardly say we're equals Renly. You're the King's brother, lord paramount of the Stormlands and fourth in line to the throne. I could be the best knight in the kingdoms and we'd still never be equals.”

Renly rolled his eyes. He supposed he couldn't really argue with that though. “Fine. If you want to be _technical_ about it. But in here we're equals.”

Loras smirked. “Tell me that again the next time you've got me face down on the bed and I'm pleading for you to fuck me.”

Renly laughed and reached out for Loras' hand. Loras was far too far away to take it and yet he seemed in an obliging enough mood, getting to his feet and coming to sit beside him on the floor.

“What I really need to do,” Renly laughed as he took Loras' hands in his own, wet fingers sliding over calloused palms. “is get another squire.”

Loras seemed unimpressed at these words and Renly laughed at his sour expression.

“Does the idea offend you Loras?” He tapped Loras' nose with a soapy finger.

Loras scowled and pulled his hands away. “Will you take the next one to bed too?”

Renly grinned, not able to resist teasing Loras a little. “Most definitely. I plan on making a habit of it you see.” He leant over to kiss Loras cheek, leaning over further when Loras edged away from him. “In all seriousness though Loras, you'll be needing your own squire too if you're planning on competing in tourneys. Who you going to have?”

“I have thousands of cousins. Probably one of them I guess.” He was out of Renly's reach now, sitting with his back against the bed and his arms around his knees. He was still pouting slightly and yet Renly could tell he wasn't actually annoyed at him. In fact, if anything, Loras seemed like he was purposefully trying to look like he was sulking.

“Perhaps I'll steal one.” Renly laughed. “No doubt if I try and find one in Kings Landing it'll be a Lannister. “ He grinned. “And I don't much fancy taking a Lannister to bed.”

Loras just raised an eyebrow, glaring at him disdainfully.

Renly sighed. “Or perhaps I should find a son of my bannermen. That's what this whole thing is about anyway isn't it? Keeping people happy.” He thought back to when he had first agreed to take Loras as his squire, sat in the solar with Penrose reading a letter from Jon Arryn. He'd agreed to that for many reasons he supposed, the prinicipal one to keep Robert happy, who no doubt wanted to keep the lord of the Reach happy in turn. The other reason had been because he'd been terribly bored, fourteen, the lord of a large castle and yet with no companions anywhere even close to his age. He hadn't really needed Loras and yet he'd wanted him all the same. Now though, spending so much time away from Storm's End as he did, he did need a squire and preferably a decent one too. He sighed as he thought of the possible candidates, making a mental list of his bannermen that had young sons. If he hadn't been at court, he might have had Edric, and yet whilst he imagined Robert would care little about it, he doubted that Edric's presence in Kings Landing would go down at all well with Stannis or Cersei. And whilst he could handle offending Stannis, he thought that offering insult to the queen was probably more trouble than he could be bothered with. A true-born son of one of his bannermen would probably be much more appropriate.

"Any ideas Loras?" He asked. "You know more about squiring that me. Any sons of my bannermen that you think might make decent ones?"

It was Loras' turn to grin and he must have been quite amused with whatever thought he had in his head for he deigned to edge closer back to Renly. “That Red Ronnet has a younger brother.” He said smugly. “You could have him.” He paused and his smiled widened. “Or that great big ugly maid you say likes to dress up in armour.” He smirked. “She wouldn't _fit_ in your bed.”

Renly rolled his eyes and merely grabbed Loras' wrist, pulling him back to the side of the tub before he could edge away again. “Perhaps she wouldn't.” He laughed. “But I guess it's of little consequence really, seeing as my bed's already occupied.”

Loras laughed and wrapped his own hand around Renly's wrist, leaning so far over the edge of the tub that he was almost inside it. “Is that a suggestion?” he almost purred, pressing himself up against Renly, his sleeves trailing in the water as he tried to pull Renly up out of the bath. He wasn't particularly sucessful, his hands not able to get a decent enough grip on Renly's skin to get any leverage. Eventually though, he stood up and moved closer, looping his arms under Renly's and heaving.

“Hey,” Renly protested, laughing against Loras' cheek as he was dragged backwards. “I'm not even clean yet.”

Loras raised an eyebrow and grinned. “Me or the water Renly. Take your pick.”

Renly grinned, wrestling his arms out of Loras' grip as he lounged back against the side of the tub. “Can't a man have both?”

Loras just growled at this and Renly didn't bother to protest this time as Loras seized his wrists and dragged him to his feet. He supposed that there was no real point in getting clean anyway only to get sticky and dishevelled again straight afterwards.

“You could have at least let me rinse the soap off first Loras.” He complained though as Loras pushed him onto the bed.

Loras just laughed and ran his hands over Renly's chest, wiping away the majority of the soap Renly had just complained about before then undressing himself hastily. Renly leant over to help him and yet Loras batted away his hands, seemingly not keen for Renly to ruin the rest of his clothes with his wet hands.

He grinned when he was undressed though and seized Renly's wrists again, pushing him back against the bed and pinning him down with his weight before Renly even knew what was happening.

“That was hardly fair!” Renly exclaimed as Loras laughed smugly down at him. “You caught me unprepared.”

Loras shrugged coyly. “Too bad.” The words were only just out of his mouth though before Renly retaliated, flipping Loras over with as much force as he could manage, wet skin sliding against Loras' chest rather satisfyingly.

“Much better.” Renly laughed, feeling rather pleased with himself. He leant down to kiss Loras' jaw, feeling his own arousal grow as he pressed his face into the crook of Loras' neck, tasting salt on his tongue.

Loras smirked however. “You think this is over Renly?” He pushed rather futilely at Renly's chest, trying to roll him off of him.

Renly laughed. “Yes.” He grinned. “You might have bested me earlier but where's your sword now eh Loras?” He gestured wildly to the pile of Loras' clothes on the floor, Loras' swordbelt among them.

Loras just laughed at that and for a moment Renly thought he had surrendered, for his hands had stopped pushing at Renly's chest and had migrated down to his sides, tracing the shallow dip of his waist with feathery-light touches.

Renly laughed. “That tickles Loras.”

Loras smirked, his fingers still lightly brushing his skin. “Is that so?”

His expression put Renly slightly on edge and so he made to grab Loras' hands with the aim of pinning them to the bed. Before he could do so though, Loras' fingers were jabbing into his sides, unrelenting and making Renly tense up involuntarily.

“Don't you dare!” Renly cried through shrieks of laughter as Loras prodded him harder, his fingers digging in between his ribs until Renly's entire body was shaking with laughter he couldn't stop. Desperately he tried to get away from Loras, his legs jerking wildly as Loras now attacked that soft spot behind his knees.

“Stop!” Renly gasped desperately, his eyes watering now with laughter. “Anywhere but there-” Loras didn't listen though and Renly tried to scrunch himself up into a ball as Loras fingers jabbed harder. “I'm sure this is against the rules!”

“What rules?” Loras shot back, grabbing Renly's feet and just about managing to avoid being kicked in the face. “Everything we do in this bedroom is against the rules.”

“ _Please!_ ” Renly shrieked as Loras refused to stop. “Please Loras, I'll do anything! Whatever you like! Just _stop_ -”

Loras smirked and held his hands up in the air, grinning as Renly yanked himself over to the other side of the bed, away from Loras' offending hands. “Did you not like that?” he asked innocently.

Renly laughed, still panting. “I certainly did not.”

Loras laughed and sat back up against the headboard. “You shouldn't have laughed so much then.”

“I couldn't help it.” Renly snorted, sounding almost as petulant as Loras sometimes did.

Loras grinned and pulled him back towards him, running his hands through Renly's hair until Renly decided it was safe to relax against him once more.

He rested his head on Loras' lap. “So Loras, I said I'd give you anything you want." He cocked his head questioningly. "So what is it I can do for you?"

Loras laughed and leant down to kiss his forehead. “I'm pretty sure I've already got everything I want.”

Renly grinned. “Then why'd you stop?”

“You sounded so pitiful.” He smiled and kissed the corner of Renly's mouth. “Even I'm not that heartless.”

Renly tilted his head to try and get Loras to kiss him properly. “Who ever told you you were heartless? Quite the opposite I'd say.”

Loras smiled and ran his hands down Renly's sides, not quite softly enough to tickle, but just firmly enough to remind Renly why he'd got out of the bath in the first place.

Grinning, he lifted his head off Loras' lap and sat up, straddling Loras' thighs. “Go on then,” he laughed. “Considering this is the second time today you seem to have got the better of me, do what you will with me.”

Loras laughed, sitting back against the headboard and letting Renly settle himself in his lap. “You want me to fuck you Renly? Is that what you're asking me to do?”

Renly shrugged and grinned. “I'm not asking you for anything. Interpret it how you like.”

Loras laughed. “Sounds like a good enough interpretation to me.” He wrapped his arms around Renly's chest, shifting him closer. “It's odd having you here.” he murmured, sliding his hands down to Renly's hips. "It feels like we ought to be the other way around.”

Renly grinned. “Well what was it I said earlier?” He nipped Loras' ear gently. “In here we're equals.” Renly had to agree with Loras' sentiments though. Perhaps it was something to do with their difference in size, or perhaps merely because, whilst Loras had fucked Renly a couple of times before, they had never done it quite like this, either way sitting with Loras underneath him felt somehow odd.

Not in a bad way though, Renly thought as he ground his hips up against Loras', Loras' steady hands resting now in the shallow dip of his waist and the friction making him gasp.

He knelt up slightly as Loras' hands trailed down his back, their intention as clear as daylight despite the teasing way they danced across his skin.

Renly tried not to tense as Loras pushed a finger inside him, the sensation still a relatively unfamiliar one. He closed his eyes in bliss though as Loras curled that finger inside him, hitting somewhere Renly knew would have made Loras cry out had their positions been reversed.Loras seemed to know what would feel good for him and Renly groaned as Loras' fingers continued their work, stretching him and brushing teasingly across that sweet spot before he'd increase the pressure and make Renly's hips buck up in pleasure.

“Go on then.” he laughed into Loras' mouth. “Take me if you like.”

Loras didn't answer, just smirked infuriatingly before he tilted his head and deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring Renly's mouth and his spare hand knotting itself in Renly's hair. He didn't respond even when Renly pushed down against his fingers, eager for Loras to go deeper, and so Renly reached for the oil himself, extricating Loras' hand from his hair and pushing the small bottle into it.

That seemed to amuse Loras for he laughed against Renly's neck, the hot air tickling his skin. His fingers closed around the bottle though.

Renly prodded him. “Well go on then. Don't make me wait.” Even as he said it though, he knew that Loras would probably take no notice. Indeed, if anything, he'd probably just make Renly wait longer for having the sheer cheek to tell him to get a move on.

Indeed, Loras smirked against his neck, before trailing painfully soft kisses down towards his collarbone, so soft that Renly feared he might be about to tickle him again

Renly prodded him again even so, crying out when Loras bit down hard on the soft flesh between his shoulder and his neck in response.

“That's not fair!” Renly laughed, the sharp pain subsideding into more of a dull ache as Loras licked and sucked at the sore spot he'd caused.

Loras looked briefly up. “You said I could do what I like?” He bit down again on Renly's shoulder to drive his point home.

“Alright alright.” Renly laughed hurriedly before Loras bit him again, pushing down hard against Loras' fingers again and arching his back. “But could you please just put me out of my misery sometime in the next century ?”

Loras laughed and seemingly took pity on him for he withdrew his fingers and Renly felt Loras' cock push up against him. He had to wait though for Loras to coat himself in the oil, which he did infuriatingly slowly, no doubt a nod to the fact that Renly would always insist on using a ridiculous amount of it to avoid hurting him.

He groaned as he took the first inch or two, his respect for Loras growing as he thought to how Loras could sink down on him without even even stopping for breath. He supposed it came with practice though and so he did his best to relax.

Loras must have known he was finding it difficult, for his hands were suddenly around Renly's shoulders, reassuring and gentle instead of teasing. “Push out as I push in.” he laughed which sounded illogical to Renly but which he tried anyway, thinking Loras probably knew what he was talking about. And indeed he must have done for it made things a lot easier and Renly sighed as Loras pushed into him deeper. It felt good, very good, and yet Renly didn't know quite what to do with himself on top like this.The two times they'd done this before, Renly had being lying down and that, he thought, was much easier. Here he had to move with Loras, pushing into his thrusts and tipping forward so that Loras would hit that spot which made him want to sigh, cry out and ask Loras to fuck him harder all at the same time.

He wasn't overly sure if he was doing a decent job and yet either way could feel Loras getting close, evident from the way his hands were desperately gripping Renly's hips and forcing him to rock faster against him.

Renly closed his eyes and took one of Loras' hands in his own, guiding it down and wrapping it around his cock. Loras didn't need telling twice and Renly arched his back to give him more room.

He came seconds after Loras did, the two of them pressing themselves together almost desperately as Loras' fingers tightened painfully in Renly's hair.

Renly leant against him heavily afterwards, catching his breath and taking in the glorious sight of Loras leaning equally heavily against the headboard, his curls flying away in all directions and a sort of lopsided smile plastered across his face.

“You're wonderful Loras,” he breathed softly.

“Well obviously” Loras raised an eyebrow, his smile widening.

He bent down and kissed Loras' chest. “ Do we have to go down for dinner?” he sighed. "I'm quite sure I could stay here forever.”

“Well please don't.” Loras laughed. “My thighs have gone completely numb.”

And so Renly hurriedly scrambled off him, looking decidedly less elegant, he thought, than he would have liked as Loras stretched out his legs on the bed behind him, yawning loudly. Sighing, he walked over to the tub of water and dipped a finger in. It wasn't quite yet cold but distinctly tepid. “This is your fault.” he laughed.

Loras just shrugged. "Guilty as charged." He grinned though. "But don't lie. It was definitely worth it."

Renly smiled and hauled him off the bed, at the very least if he was going to have to suffer through a lukewarm bath, he'd be sure to make Loras suffer through it with him.


	62. Chapter 62

Dinner was a busy affair and Renly thoroughly enjoyed it. It wasn't quite a feast, due to the lack of musicians and dancing, but it might well have been for the amount of Reach lords that were there. Renly found himself sat next to the Redwynes, sandwiched in between lord Paxter and his daughter Desmera, the latter arrangement of which was surely not a coincidence. She was a nice girl though, about a year older than Loras and with vibrant red hair and freckles. She had more to say than most girls, perhaps due to her having Lady Olenna as a grandmother.

The food was glorious and yet the irony of enjoying a luxurious meal meal whilst sat beside the man who had been responsible for blockading and starving out Storm's End during Robert's Rebellion wasn't lost on Renly. He laughed as he imagined what Stannis would have said had he been there, and wondered if it had occurred to lord Paxter at all that between himself and lord mace, the man he was so obviously trying to introduce his daughter to had been reduced to eating rats by their actions. He smiled as he remembered Stannis, a man not usually predisposed to vulgar language, cursing the names of Paxter Redwyne and Mace Tyrell from Dorne to the Wall as he paced angrily along the battlements.

Renly was very poor at holding grudges though and so he jested and conversed with the Redwynes as if he and them didn't share a rather unfortunate history. He had to smile coyly though when lord Paxter kindly passed him the caramelised onions and he spared a thought for that solemn onion knight and his poor severed fingers. Courtesy of him, they'd had boiled onions and poached onions, roasted onions and raw onions and it taken a good few years before Renly had been able to even look at an onion and find the idea of eating it vaguely appealing.

Hobber and Horas, the Redwyne twins cursed with that horrid orange hair, were sat on their father's left and whilst Renly found them a little dim-witted, he'd met them several times before at the various tourneys and so he found they had at least something to talk about. They seemed rather in awe of him and yet most of their time seemed preoccupied with teasing some poor fat boy who'd wound up on their other side. Every time the fat boy, and _fat_ was a kind word for quite how huge the boy was, accepted a dish, they'd snigger loudly and whisper _piggy_.

Most stayed at the table even after the final course, people swapping seats and milling about to talk to those they hadn't been sitting with. Renly had hoped to seek out Loras, who'd been all the way down the other end of the table, for he found he ached all over from their fight earlier and fancied nothing more now than going to bed. And yet when he spotted Loras, he, Willas and Garlan were sitting together deep in conversation and Renly didn't like to break up the brotherly bonding on the eve of Garlan's wedding. Instead, he wound up sitting next to lord Orton Merryweather, a very courteous fellow with a very attractive wife who must have been from over the narrow sea for she was dressed in exotic fabrics, her large dark eyes attracting favourable gazes from most of the men at the table.

It was lord Orton who introduced him to lord Tarly, a formidable man who almost broke Renly's hand when he shook it. He, like the Redwynes, had brought his family, and once more, Renly was lambasted with daughters, three being ushered towards him all at once, blushing behind their hands. Lord Tarly evidently didn't think it worth telling Renly their names though and once they'd greeted him he ushered them quickly back to their mother who was sitting now next to the very fat boy.

He did, however, introduce Renly properly to a young boy who Renly supposed must have been his heir. He was called Dickon and his father must have been proud of him for he placed a warm hand on his shoulder as he told Renly just how well Dickon was coming along with a sword.

Loras rescued him then, greeting lord Tarly warmly before excusing both him and Renly and steering them towards the door.

He laughed when they were out into the empty corridor and placed a hand on Renly's arm. "You were really unlucky with the seating there Renly. I almost wept for you when I saw that you'd managed to sit yourself down next to Horror and Slobber."

Renly laughed. "I'm guessing that's Horas and Hobber Redwyne right?"

Loras nodded, grinning. "I'm sure you'll agree though that Horror and Slobber suit them better though right?" He laughed. "And I see you had Piggy nearby too."

Renly didn't have to ask who Piggy was. He laughed. "Horas and Hobber didn't seem to like that one too much."

Loras laughed. "He's not the most desirable of companions. He used to come play with us sometimes when I was a child." He grinned as if recalling memories which amused him. "He'd always cry."

Renly chuckled. “Poor thing.” He imagined it would be rather difficult to be quite so fat growing up.

Loras shrugged. “It's his own fault he's useless. He used to be a page for Uncle Paxter and yet he sent him back after about a month.”

That perhaps explained why the Redwyne twins had found his presence so amusing, Renly thought.

“I mean how useless do you have to be to be sent home after a _month_?” Loras was saying as they climbed the stairs. “I mean you never contemplated sending _me_ home did you?”

Renly shrugged and grinned. “Perhaps I should have done. Done myself a long term favour.”

Loras rolled his eyes and shoved him roughly, almost making Renly trip up over the next step. He evidently wasn't irritated enough to let him fall though for he righted Renly rather quickly, his deft hands steadying him before he continued steering him up the stairs, rather carefully this time.

It was heaven to collapse on his bed, Renly thought, and he stretched his aching limbs out with a yawn. "“I'm getting too old to be fighting like that with you.” Renly groaned into the pillow as Loras walked around the room, lighting the candles. “I feel like I've been sat on by a whole herd of aurochs”

"A whole herd of aurochs?" Loras smiled, shaking his head slightly and laughing as he sat down next to him, his curls shining like gold in the dim candlelight.

“Or a whole herd of Roberts” Renly laughed. “That analogy works fine too.”

Loras grinned and leaning over him, began undressing him with careful hands for which Renly was rather grateful, for had he been left to his own devices, he might have just not bothered and gone to bed fully dressed. As it was though, he closed his eyes and let Loras continue what he was doing, shifting every now and again so that Loras could pull his doublet off his shoulders or reach underneath him to unlace his breeches.

He sighed as Loras moved to sit atop him, resting himself on his lower back, one leg either side of him. He wasn't particularly heavy and yet Renly found it a nice weight, rather satisfying and soothing somehow. He frowned though when he felt Loras lean forward and reach under the pillow, patting his hair as he did so. He could only be looking for the vial of oil and yet if Loras thought he had any energy left to fuck him, he was going to be sorely disappointed. 

He turned his head. "Loras," he sighed. "I'm sorry but can't we leave that till morn-"

"Hush." Loras placed a finger over Renly's lips. "I'm not suggesting you sleep with me." He bent down to kiss Renly's shoulder and it quickly became clear what he was intending to do with the oil for he poured a little onto Renly's back, smoothing it over his skin with warm hands.

"That feels nice.” Renly murmured, relaxing into his touch as Loras made wide circles with his palms, his fingers chasing away the ache in between his shoulder blades.

“How times have changed.” Renly laughed, the pillow muffling it slightly. “The last time we fought, it was me hurting you. And here I am aching like an old man.” He smiled as he thought back to that last time. He couldn't quite remember how old Loras had been, eleven perhaps, maybe twelve. All the same, despite Loras' youth, it had been a fight hard won for him and Renly vaguely remembered fearing half way through that he was about to be bested by his squire in front of most of his household. What he remembered most clearly though was the black and purple bruise he'd left Loras with, all up one side, blooming angrily against his pale skin.

Loras laughed fondly though. “I should have won that fight. I thought I was going to you know."

Renly laughed, turning his head slightly. “I thought you were going to too.” He smiled. “Was I better than you thought I'd be?”

“A lot.” Loras' fingers pushed into a sore spot in his back. “I'd been there over a year and I'd never seen you even pick up a sword. I thought you were going to be near useless.”

Renly smiled. “ You know I was really worried when I saw I'd hurt you.” He laughed. “And yet you wouldn't let me fetch a maester.”

Loras laughed. “Which was stupid of me, because that bruise you gave me hurt like fuck Renly.”

Renly tried to roll over at that and would have done had Loras not firmly pushed him back down. “You told me it didn't hurt." he hissed. "I remember you telling me that as clear as daylight.”

He felt Loras shrug above him. “I thought it would worry you.” He laughed. “And it was only a bruise, even if it was rather a painful one.” He kissed Renly's back, soft presses of lips that sent shivers up Renly's spine.

Sighing, Renly shut his eyes again and decided not to press the matter. It didn't surprise him at all that Loras would have lied to him about being hurt; it was the sort of thing he'd do now, even though he was more than old enough now to know better. He supposed though it was pointless to feel guilty over it. It had been years ago now and the injury evidently hadn't done Loras any lasting damage or else he wouldn't be sat atop him as he was, his rough fingers running their way down his sides.

“You touched me that evening, lifted up my shirt and ran your hand over my chest.” Loras said presently, the tips of his fingers tickling the back of Renly's neck.

Renly laughed. "And what of it?"

Loras sighed, a soft exhalation of air that felt warm against Renly's shoulders as Loras rolled off him, nudging Renly onto his side and wrapping his arms around his neck. He laughed. “Well you'd let me sleep beside you before, and you used to hold me all the time, let me put my head against your shoulder and put my arms round you. And that felt nice, I felt safe like that. And yet you'd never touched me like you did that night before.”

Renly laughed. "What under your clothes you mean?" He kissed Loras' curls in amusement. "Did it unnerve you?"

Loras grinned. “It felt strange I guess, _confusing_.” he laughed. “I remember you stayed in my bed that evening, and I couldn't get to sleep. That was all I could think about, how you ran your hands up my side, under my shirt. I couldn't decide if I liked it.”

“And your conclusion?” Renly smiled into Loras' hair. He only vaguely remembered taking a look at Loras' bruise and yet he was quite sure he certainly hadn't meant it as anything suggestive. It wouldn't have occurred to him yet to look at Loras at anything more than a child back then.

Loras shrugged and pressed his face into Renly's chest. “I couldn't decide. Part of me wanted you to do it again and yet equally, part of me was terrified you just might.”

“Aww Loras,” Renly grinned and ran his hands tentatively up Loras' side. “Does it terrify you now?”

Loras rolled his eyes. “I wasn't yet twelve. Cut me some slack why don't you.”

Renly pulled him close and for a moment, if he closed his eyes really tightly, he could imagine indeed that Loras was eleven again, and he fifteen, and that they were back in Storm's End with years together within those walls ahead of them. Loras had been insolent even at that age, and yet he'd been very sweet Renly remembered fondly, and he'd adored him even then.

He must have fallen asleep soon after for he had no recollection of Loras getting up to blow out the candles and yet the next time he awoke, briefly and still half asleep, it was completely dark, the room silent save for the soft sound of Loras' breathing against his cheek. He fell back to sleep almost immediately, quite sure for a few moments that he was back in Storm's End.

 

.................................................

It was a bright sunny day when Renly woke the next day. Loras had opened the curtains and was sat on the end of the bed when Renly sat up, as if he knew that Renly had just awoken from a dream where he'd still been Renly's squire. He was already dressed in his house colours, clad in a beautiful green surcoat embossed with gold thread and dark green breeches in a soft velvet. He looked glorious, and Renly couldn't help but reach out and touch him, running his hands along the soft fabric and smiling sleepily up at him.

Loras seemed to find this amusing for he laughed and kissed Renly's forehead. "Glad to see you still appreciate fine clothes even when you're still half asleep."

Renly just grinned, climbing out of bed and pulling on some fresh smallclothes from the drawers by his bed. He was just deciding what he was going to wear though when he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror. An angry purple bruise had appeared where Loras had bitten him last night before dinner, clearly visible where his shoulder met his neck.   
  
"What have you done to me?" He groaned, prodding it gently with a finger and wincing. 

Loras shrugged. "You told me to do what I liked." He stood up and looped his arms around Renly's waist from behind, leaning his head on Renly's shoulder and grinning at him in the mirror. "That means you have no right to complain."

Renly laughed, twisting his head to try and kiss Loras' hair. "You are going to be the death of me one of these days."

Loras smiled. "You love me really." He let go of him and walked over to the wardrobe, rifling through it before passing him a few garments. "The collar will be high enough on these I reckon." 

Renly took them gratefully. Thankfully, one of them seemed quite suitable, a deep blue doublet with silver fastenings that was one of his favourites. It was infuriating though, not having much of a choice, and yet he supposed that at least it would ensure he wasn't late for breakfast. This, he was led to believe, was of paramount importance as apparently all the presents were given before the wedding in the Reach, a tradition which baffled Renly. 

It turned out to be good fun though and whilst he didn't get to see Leonette recieve her emerald pendant, for she was with the ladies, Garlan seemed as delighted with the saddle he'd got him as he seemed about everything that day, and he assured him also that Leonette would adore anything that was shiny and hung round her neck. There was much laughter then as Willas led the guests out into the garden, well into the afternoon by now, his pace slow and pained as Garlan and Leonette were rushed upstairs to change into their wedding clothes.

The weddng was to be in one of the larger gardens outside the sept and Renly couldn't help smiling as he approached. Wrought iron chairs had been laid out in rows, and around each of the backs, wreaths of flowers were woven. The whole effect was quite charming and Renly imagined that if he ever had to get married, this would be how he would choose to do it. He'd been given a seat on the second row, right behind the immediate family which he thought rather flattering. Loras was sat in front of him and to the left and Renly was quite happy to just sit quietly as they waited for Garlan and Leonette to come down, watching the sunlight create patterns in Loras' hair and thinking back on all of the other weddings he'd been to.

And he'd been to quite a fair few in his time, Renly thought, more than your average eighteen year old. He'd been to both his brothers' for instance, though he couldn't remember them all that well nowadays.

All he remembered of Roberts was the food at the feast. There'd been piles of it, poached plums, glazed duck stuffed with oranges, lamb with cherries, glorious amounts of food that Renly could remember being speechless at. He''d been starving for so long that the novelty of seeing so much food hadn't quite worn off yet. Both Stannis and Robert had ignored him at that wedding, and Renly had been left to eat through as much of the food as pleased him without them. Maester Cressen had still been with him then and the elderly man had sat with him at the end of the high table. Renly remembered him being quiet that day as if perhaps the old maester knew what everyone else didn't yet: that Robert's ascension to king was going to make Robert himself miserable and Stannis even more so than he already was. He'd been sympathetic though when Renly had got restless, desperate to see the brother that he'd barely seen since before the war and yet hadn't spoken a word to him throughout the day.

Stannis' wedding had been much less of a cheery affair. As hadn't been obvious with Robert and Cersei, it had only been necessary to look at Stannis and Selyse to know that their marriage wasn't going to be a happy one. He had less of a memory of that wedding, only his delight at seeing maester Cressen again. He and Stannis had left Storm's End about half a year earlier and Renly had been convinced that he'd never see the old maester again. Ironically perhaps, after that wedding, Renly hadn't. He thought though that the old man was still alive, wasting away no doubt at Dragonstone unless he'd passed away and Stannis hadn't thought to tell him- the sort of thing Stannis might do, and so perhaps someday, Renly would see Cressen again, a thought that gave him great pleasure.

Aside from that brief reunion though, all Renly remembered of Stannis' wedding was the familiar fool from Storm's End performing. He couldn't remember his name, or indeed if the fool had ever had one. But he did remember his face, the tattooed green and red chequered face being hard to forget he thought. He remembered too how Stannis used to hate that fool and had loathed to see him at his wedding. No wonder, Renly thought. Their parents had sailed away over the narrow sea one day and all that had come back was a waterlogged fool, half drowned and with his wits in tatters.

After that, it had been mainly weddings of his bannermen that he'd attended, and those had been happier occasions than both Stannis and Robert's weddings combined.

This wedding he thought though, would put even those relatively happy occasions to shame. Garlan reappeared first and stood waiting for his bride with Willas, Margaery and Loras, laughing and joking as if this wedding was all he ever wanted. Renly smiled as he watched him. He would probably have sold his soul to have even a chance of being that happy at the thought of wedlock. 

Leonette appeared soon after, and whilst Renly had always thought her a decidedly pretty girl, today she was radiant, making even the glorious Margaery look almost dull and drab in comparison as she walked across the garden towards Garlan, hanging onto her father's arm. Everyone hushed as she approached, Willas, Loras and Margaery taking their seats quickly as everyone turned to watch Leonette's progress. She was dressed in green silk that brushed the grass as she walked, and her smile could probably have lit up even the darkest of rooms. The smile Garlan returned was equally as radiant and yet what stood out most to Renly was how neither of them seemed at all nervous, or jittery. Instead, they just stared at each other as if nobody else was there. 

Even the septon smiled as Leonette reached Garlan, despite the fact that Renly knew him to rather irritated about the wedding being held in the garden rather than in the sept as was proper. Slowly he bound their hands together, passing a white ribbon around first Garlan's large hand and then Leonette's dainty one as they repeated the words. 

Afterwards, they walked together as everyone strolled over to Highgarden's grand hall, arm in arm, the flowers in Leonette's hair shining in the late afternoon sun. Every so often he'd lean over and kiss her cheek, making her giggle and smile back at him, and somehow, despite his good mood, Renly found himself feeling suddenly jealous as he watched them, and for the first time really since Loras had first kissed him that night in his chambers, he thought he might understand quite why Loras loathed the secrecy so much, quite why he hated the idea that one day they might be forced to hide what they did even more so than they did now. It would be lovely, Renly thought, to be able to lean over and kiss Loras like Garlan and Leonette were doing now, and to have everyone laugh and say how good a couple they made instead of being at best confused and at worst disgusted. 

He did get to sit next to Loras at the feast though, in between him and Margaery, which felt less awkward than he would have expected it to be. They seemed almost as happy as Leonette and Garlan and all through the feast they didn't seem able to help smiling at their brother and his new bride every so now and often. Renly suspected that Loras must have specifically asked for him to be sat together and whilst he found it mildly embarrassing to think of lord Mace pondering over quite why Loras was so eager to sit next to the man who'd been his liege lord before he was knighted, he had to admit that he was very grateful. He'd have endured all the embarrassment in the world perhaps just to see those smiles that every few minutes or so, when he wasn't grinning like an idiot at Garlan, were directed at him and only him. 

The food was glorious and Margaery amused him greatly by being quite unladylike when she surreptitiously leant over towards Willas and hissed in his ear that he'd need to loosen the laces on her bodice a little so she could enjoy the food. Willas too seemed amused, if a little exasperated and yet he indulged her anyway, pulling the laces a little looser without lord Mace even suspecting anything untoward was going on right under his nose. All the while, Margaery held herself with just as much grace as she usually did, and Renly suspected she could probably have taken her bodice right off and walked around in her smallclothes and nobody would have thought her any less elegant for it. There was just something in the way she carried herself, or held herself perhaps, that just made people forget she was a girl of ten and three, probably not yet even flowered, and think of her already as the accomplished lady she would no doubt grow up to be. 

Garlan and Leonette had the first dance, to loud cheers from most and even louder catcalls from ser Tanton Fossoway who, true to form, was already well into his cups by the time the dancing got underway. Garlan too must have had a fair bit to drink too, for he had a rather tipsy looking grin plastered across his face as he led his new bride across the floor, and every now and again he appeared to lose his footing, leaning heavily against Leonette and making her laugh.

When they were done, Loras getting up from his seat to help Leonette guide an unsteady Garlan back to his chair where he proceeded to feed Leonette grapes with a lopsided smile, everyone else took to the floor. Renly didn't join them for the time being, there being far too much cake still on the table for him even to think about moving until he'd had a taste of each. He laughed though as Loras surreptitiously prodded him in the stomach, grinning and whispering in his ear that he'd be very upset if Renly squashed him in bed that evening. 

Margaery too stayed, seemingly sitting out to avoid dancing with Tanton Fossoway who was evidently trying to drunkenly court her. Already he had loudly announced that this afternoon ought to have been a double wedding between the Fossoways and the Tyrells. There had been a rather awkward silence when he'd proclaimed this, standing up on the benches and tossing a flower he'd plucked from Leonette's hair in Margaery's vague direction as everyone watched lord Mace to see how he'd take this advance on his precious daughter. Thankfully though, he seemed to find it as amusing as everyone else, for he boomed in laughter before clapping Ser Tanton heartily on the shoulder. It helped probably that there was nothing malicious about Ser Tanton, just something rather greatly amusing about the way he couldn't handle his liquor.

Loras, however, did take to the floor, partnering a very pretty blonde lady that Renly was sure Loras had earlier introduced to him as his aunt. Renly was sure this couldn't be right though, 

“Is that your aunt your brother is dancing with?” Renly leant over to ask Margaery.

“Yes, that's one of my mother's younger sisters. Leyla.” Margaery replied, her eyes twinkling as she took a forbidden sip from Renly's wine whilst her father wasn't looking.

Renly grinned. It seemed that Margaery more often than not got the better of her father. He looked back to the blonde lady on Loras' arm. “Your aunt for true you say? She looks ever so young to be so.”

Margaery laughed and if Renly hadn't known better, he'd have thought her flirting with him. As it was though it seemed that Margaery was like that with everyone, charming men and women alike with her seductive smiles and captivating glances. “You're uncle to prince Joffrey are you not? And you're not yet twenty.”

“I suppose.” Renly shrugged and pulled his wine back from her with a grin. "She's very pretty, this aunt of yours."  
  
Margaery pouted slightly as she gently pried the cup out of Renly's hands, glancing over her shoulder to check her father was still adequately distracted. "It's her younger sister that was the really pretty one." She laughed. "And that's ever such a story." 

She paused dramatically, trying no doubt to make Renly beg her to tell him the gossip. 

Renly saw right through this ploy though and merely laughed, raising his eyebrow sceptically as he waited patiently for her to continue. Usually he hated these sort of pointless games between men and women, fearing that he might lead unsuspecting women on, and yet with Margaery he thought there was little chance of that which made it somehow a lot more enjoyable. He did get the distinct feeling though that Margaery was somehow _practising_ her charms on him, no doubt aware that Renly would make for good sport without there being any chance of him trying to push an unwanted hand down her bodice.

Eventually, as Renly knew she would, she cracked and offered to tell him her story anyway. "You win." She laughed as Renly maintained his silence. "Do you want to hear the rest or not?"  
  
Renly grinned. "I'd love to." And it was true. He'd always had an interest in knowing things about people ever since he was young, an interest Loras had never really understood, for whilst Loras was perfectly happy to share stories about people he knew and had met, he lost all interest entirely when it was about people not in his life.

“It was ever such a scandal,” Margaery laughed. “She was wed to some beast of a man from the North who took a fancy to her at a tourney. And yet a couple of years in, Eddard Stark came baying for his blood, wanted to chop off his head. Apparently he'd done something terrible that's never spoken about."  
  
"And did he?" Renly asked. "Chop off his head I mean?"  
  
"No." Margaery shook her head, a curl falling elegantly over her forehead. "They fled over the Narrow Sea. And my aunt... she's..." She dropped her voice and laughed softly under her breath. "She's a _paramour_ now, to some prince in Myr or Lys, I've forgotten where. It vexed my grandfather something terrible. I mean a Hightower as a _paramour_?."  
  
Renly laughed. Loras had never told him that story and yet it perhaps explained quite why Loras seemed so against the very idea of paramours if there was such a family scandal about it. 

It seemed Margaery was about to tell him more and yet at that moment Ser Tanton reappeared, his previous partner now on lord Mace's beefy arm.

"My dear lady.." he slurred out. "If you would do me the honour... _the greatest honour_... of taking my arm and dancing." He grinned sloppily at her and leant heavily against the table. 

Margaery smiled easily. “I would have been honoured Ser Tanton, but I'm afraid I've already...” She cast around in earnest.

“..agreed to dance with me.” Renly finished for her to which Ser Tanton clapped him on the shoulder and insisted to Margaery that she save some energy for a dance with him afterwards.

Margaery looked rather grateful as she took Renly's arm, and she laughed when Ser Tanton was out of earshot. "Thank you." she hissed.

She was a very graceful dancer, and Renly had to admit that dancing with her appealed to his vanity. For it was evident that everyone watching them was thinking the exact same thing- that the two of them made the most handsome couple in the room. Indeed, Renly thought Margaery looked just as magnificent as he did, with her long curls that fell almost to her waist and her silk dress embroidered in hues of blues and greens. With him dressed in dark blue, they even matched. 

He caught Loras' eye as he spun her round, Loras now having finished dancing with his aunt and leaning against the table, looking more than a little amused as he watched them. He came to collect her from him when the song had finished, rolling his eyes at Renly before pointedly taking his sister's arm. 

Renly sat and watched them a while as they danced. There was a lot of laughter and yet from the way Loras was hissing in Margaery's ear every now and again, Renly got the distinct feeling that they were bickering over him, and it warmed him quite a lot to think that Loras was getting slightly territorial over him.

He didn't watch long though, being approached fairly quickly by Loras and Margaery's young cousin who had seemed in awe of him since he'd arrived. She was blushing furiously and Renly reckoned that she must have spent at least the last hour plucking up the courage to even walk in his vague direction. He supposed that she'd come to ask him to dance and yet she seemed rather tongue-tied which amused Renly greatly. Smiling, he bent down slightly to her level and put her out of her misery, asking the question she probably would never actually dare to ask.

She didn't stop blushing throughout the whole dance and nor did she manage not to trip over her feet at every other step. Even so, Renly found it great fun, thinking perhaps that in the future, he should deign only to dance with ten year old girls who thought he was the most wonderful thing they'd ever laid eyes on. His next partner was quite the opposite though, and Renly recognised her as Lord Orton's wife. She danced with all the seduction Alla Tyrell had lacked, pressing herself into the turns, her long eyelashes brushing her cheek as she gazed sultrily up at him. 

He decided to take a good long break after that, his feet aching slightly. He returned to the table and to his amusement found Garlan still feeding Leonette grapes, handing them to her one by one, alternating every so often between green ones and purple ones. He was obviously quite well into his cups now and Leonette was either too amused by it all, or powerless to stop him, for she accepted each one with a smile before hiding it in her skirts. She didn't seem to care though that her new husband was drunk, indeed she seemed perfectly happy, leaning against Garlan's wide shoulder with a growing pile of grapes in her lap. 

Renly enjoyed watching people and this was the ideal situation for it he supposed. Looking around, there was much to amuse him. On one side of the dance floor, Margaery had been cornered by Ser Tanton and she was enduring being spun around wildly by someone who could barely stand up, let alone dance. She didn't seem too bothered by it though, despite the fact that she kept having to apologise to other dancers as Tanton charged her across the room. In another corner, Willas was being forced to "dance" by his younger female cousins, and he was stood off to the side, leaning so heavily against a table he was practically sitting on it as he swayed to the music, his bad leg stretched out awkwardly. It was evident though that his cousins appreciated his efforts and before long they had allowed him to sit down and they were all fighting to sit on his knee as he no doubt began telling them some exciting story or another. He was evidently just coming to the exciting part when one of the younger ones squealed, almost being knocked over by either Horror or Slobber, Renly had no way of telling the Redwyne twins apart, as whichever one it was ran out into the corridor, his face so pained and his gait so unsteady that Renly could only assume he was about to vomit from too much wine. 

Meanwhile, further down the table, Renly could see Piggy, the real name of whom nobody had ever told him. He was certainly living up to his nickname now, for he was still digging into plate after plate of cake. Despite his obvious gluttony though, Renly couldn't help but feel rather sorry for him. Evidently nobody had any desire to dance with him, and in any case, the boy appeared so clumsy, missing the plate every now and again with his fork and sending crumbs flying everywhere, that Renly imagined he might flatten his partner had he had one. He had a quiet, thoughtful face though and Renly suspected he was probably feeling very ill at ease here. 

Unlike the fat boy though, Loras it seemed was in his element. Renly had thought he'd taught Loras nothing during his years at storm's End and yet it appeared Loras had picked up more than he usually showed, mostly Renly's charm. He'd had a fair amount of his own to begin with, something to do probably with the elegant way his curls fell over his face and the way a glance from him could send shivers up a lady's spine, and tonight it was clear that he was using every ounce of charm that he had, outrageously flirting with all of his partners. In fact, had Renly not known better, he could well have believed Loras about to bed every girl he danced with. 

Renly was just about to get up and claim his own partner out of jealous, when he was stopped in his tracks by the sudden clanging of metal on metal. He glanced back over to the table to see lord Mace on his feet, waiting patiently for everyone to quiet and looking quite red in the face. He too was evidently quite into his cups for whilst he usually seemed to like the sound of his own voice and ramble on, all he could manage now was  "Time for the bedding everyone?" 

It was phrased as a question and yet taken as an order, everyone crowding in on Leonette and Garlan, still sat together in the middle of the table. 

Within moments, they were torn apart to cheers of laughter, the pile of grapes Leonette had been hoarding in her skirts flying everywhere as she was hoisted up into the air by as many men who could get their hands on her. Renly winced as he heard the distinct ripping noise as her lovely gown tore in two. 

Garlan too was not to be left out. He though must have been too heavy for the three girls attempting to lift him, and even when Margaery ran over to help, it was a struggle. They made it as far as the door, but hadn't got through it yet before they'd collapsed under the weight of him, bursting into fits of giggles. They seemed none the worse for it though and the male guests who weren't occupied with Leonette helped them to their feet, pinching their bottoms and making them squeal. 

Renly didn't follow the party up the stairs, and yet he found he didn't have to, the shreiks of laughter audable even from downstairs as they were placed in the marital bed. The screams of laughter carried on even when the bedding procession had come back down and and there were many jokes thrown back and forth about the fact that whatever Garlan was currently doing to her to make her laugh so, he was most certainly doing it wrong. 

"You're not supposed to make her _laugh_!" The Redwyne twin who hadn't been sick insisted.

It was the guests' turn to laugh when Leonette's laughter stopped, the following silence punctuated by rather different noises leaving no doubt as to what Garlan and Leonette were now doing. 

"They didn't waste any time." Ser Tanton slurred. “ _Not that she's a virgin_.” He whispered knowingly, sliding out of his seat. “She and Garlan have been at it for years.”

It was then that lord Fossoway decided that it was probably best Ser Tanton make a quick exit and go to bed, and soon most of the guests were following suite, laughing and joking as they ascended the stairs to their various chambers. Many among them Renly knew to have been given rooms in the same part of the castle he was currently staying in, and he laughed with many of them as they complained good naturedly about quite how many stairs there would be before they could get to bed.  

Loras found him as Renly was filing out of the doorway with everyone else, looking thoroughly delighted as he steered him in the opposite direction from usual, towards the Tyrells' private family chambers. He left Renly outside in the garden, no doubt taking a look to make sure the coast was clear before he then dragged him first into a corridor and then into what Renly knew to be Loras' own chambers, locking the door behind them with a satisfying click.

"What's the occasion Loras?" he joked, wishing it wasn't so dark so that he could take a look around what had been Loras' bedroom since he was born. "I didn't think I was allowed in your rooms?" He supposed though that it had something to do with stairs that Loras couldn't be bothered with and the fact that Renly's part of the castle was no longer deserted.  
  
"Shhh." Loras hissed from the darkness. "Get into bed won't you."  
  
"I don't know where the bed _is_?" Renly whispered back, fumbling around in the darkness until he heard a large sigh and he felt Loras' hand slip into his own, leading him blindly across the room. 

He undressed straight away and climbed obediently into the bed when they reached it, Loras joining him almost immediately. After watching all the women Loras had seduced tonight, he should have liked to put Loras underneath him, kiss him until he didn't have any breath left and claim him for his own and yet he supposed it would be out of the question to make love to him here, not with Loras' family's chambers surrounding them on all sides and Loras being as loud as he was. And so Renly settled for drawing him close, pressing their foreheads together and wrapping an arm loosely around him. 

Yawning, he supposed it wasn't so much of a sacrifice anyway though, for he was quite sure that had he attempted to bed Loras, there would have been a significant chance of him falling asleep half way through. Indeed, he fell asleep almost as soon as his head touched the pillow, Loras' cheek still pressed against his own. 

 


	63. Chapter 63

Renly hadn't been asleep long when he awoke, becoming vaguely aware of the comfortable weight against his chest shifting and the warm arms around his waist disappearing. Yawning, he rolled over and pulled Loras back to him, looping his arms around his chest and tucking him back under his chin where he belonged. He was just falling back to sleep, everything back as it should be, when he felt Loras stir once more and this time he didn't seem content to settle down again when Renly pulled him back.

“Renly” he whispered, trying to pry Renly's arms off him. “I'm going to come back. I just want to get some water."

“Alright.” Renly mumbled, resting his head against Loras' shoulder nonetheless. 

Loras laughed softly. “Well could you let me go then?”

Yawning, Renly opened his eyes and glanced around, realising that he still had Loras in an iron grip. Reluctantly, he let him go, mumbling something back that made sense in his head but that sounded incoherent even to his own ears. He thought he heard Loras laugh at him then, but equally he might have dreamt it. Yawning again, Renly pulled one of the pillows towards him and wrapped his arms around that instead. It wasn't as warm as Loras was and neither did it hug him back but Renly was still too asleep to care about these things too much.

Loras was back before he'd even had time to comprehend that he was gone though, and he felt the bed dip as he got back into bed. 

“Did you want some water too?” Loras asked, bending to kiss Renly's hair.

Renly nodded thickly. His mouth felt rather dry from all the wine that evening; he'd drunk rather a lot even allowing for the fact that Margaery had drunk at least half of what he'd poured himself and the prospect of water was rather an appealing one. He relinquished his pillow and reached out blindly for the cup.

Loras laughed. “You'll have to sit up for it.”

“Why?” Renly groaned, reaching out again. Loras refused to hand it to him though and so, yawning, he dragged himself up to sit beside him, rubbing his eyes. “Happy now?”

Loras laughed and handed him the cup, taking it back after Renly had taken a long drink and placing it on the bedside table.”I'm sorry I woke you.” He said, leaning against him and kissing his neck.

Renly just smiled sleepily and and sank back down against the pillows, tugging Loras down with him. “Doesn't matter.” he mumbled, pulling the covers up over them and taking Loras back in his arms. He'd just closed his eyes to go back to sleep though when Loras insisted on fidgeting again, this time his hands moving from their comfortable position around him and dipping lower, brushing over his stomach and the tops of his thighs.

“Loras?” he murmured, feeling himself growing half-hard despite being still half asleep.

“Mmm-hmm” Loras murmured back almost silently, his fingers warm as he wrapped them softly around Renly's cock. “What is it?"

Renly didn't answer, just sighed softly as Loras' fingers coaxed him to full hardness. He had thought that Loras would want to be rather cautious considering that they were surrounded by his family's quarters and yet the way Loras' hands were still wrapped around him suggested otherwise.

“Make love to me?” Loras' voice was soft and when Renly still didn't answer, he shifted his weight up onto Renly, nudging one of his thighs in between Renly's own. "Please?"

Renly laughed and opened his eyes, feeling distinctly more awake now that he could feel Loras' cock pressed against his own. “How could I refuse when you ask so sweetly.” He tilted his head and Loras took the invitation, brushing the hair out of Renly's face before leaning in to kiss him. There was no haste in it and had Renly not known otherwise, he would have believed them to have all the time in the world. 

He didn't know how long they stayed like that but by the time they parted, Renly would have probably given him the world had he asked for it.

And to give Loras his due, he was very quiet when Renly finally got around to doing more than just kiss him. He just gasped softly into Renly's chest as Renly moved beneath him, careful not to hit anywhere that would break Loras' silence.

He didn't move off Renly's chest even when both of were long finished. Instead lying lazily across him, his head on his shoulder. 

“I was jealous this evening.” Renly admitted after a while, trying to keep his voice as quiet as possible as he stroked Loras' hair. “All those women you danced with.”

Loras lifted his head and smiled, his expression just about visible in the dark. “You started it.” he whispered. “Don't think I didn't see you with Margaery.”

Renly chuckled. “I thought you'd be pleased I'm getting on with your sister?”

“I am.” All the same though Loras wrapped his arms tightly back around Renly's neck and Renly made a mental note to flirt with women more often if it meant that Loras would get possessive like this again. He supposed though that he wouldn't have much opportunity to test that out. Probably not until he got back from Dorne and Loras made good on his word to join him in Kings Landing. 

“I'll be sad to leave.” Renly said after a while, his fingers still tangled in Loras' silky hair. “I'd be quite happy to just stay here forever I think.”

Loras laughed and Renly could feel him smiling against his shoulder. “Well you're welcome to if you like.”

Renly smiled but didn't say anything to that. Both he and Loras knew that it could never be so. Even if Renly's life wasn't in Kings Landing now and even if Mace and Alerie wouldn't object to having a permanent guest, it just wasn't the done thing. Still, it was a nice thought and one that Renly imagined he would probably find himself daydreaming about in particularly boring small council meetings.

“When are you leaving?” Loras asked, his grip round his neck tightening as if Renly was going to get up and leave right that moment. There was more than a trace of sadness in his voice and it made Renly's heart ache. Had Loras asked him to, he'd have probably stayed despite everything.

Loras didn't ask though and Renly merely sighed deeply. “Tomorrow evening I guess?” He had initially planned to leave early the morning after the wedding and yet with that looming only a few hours away, he found himself quickly getting cold feet. And anyway, a few hours would hardly make any difference as to when he arrived in Dorne. 

Loras nodded and laid his head back against Renly's shoulder. “Let's talk more of it in the morning then.” He said quietly, shifting off Renly and coming to lie beside him instead, his arms loosely around his neck. Renly rather missed his weight against him and yet he knew that he wouldn't be able to sleep with him there. Loras was just that little bit too heavy for that.

He grew sleepy quickly and as he drifted off, Renly found himself wondering rather absently if Loras would stay curled up with him like that after he himself had fallen to sleep. It was a great mystery what Loras did while Renly was sleeping; whether he stayed tangled up with him as he always was Renly fell asleep, or whether he moved away and put himself back in his arms before Renly woke up. 

The morning didn't provide sufficient answer to his questions and if anything it was rather more confusing, for Loras was still curled into his side when he woke up and yet he was clearly wide awake, his hair looking suspiciously like it had been brushed. 

“Do you stay there after I go to sleep?” Renly asked curiously once he was awake enough to form words.

Loras laughed. “What do you mean?”

“I mean do you stay so close after I fall asleep. I've always wondered”

Loras smiled. “I don't usually move away from you on purpose if that's what you're asking.” He laughed. “Unless you're being particularly irritating.”

“What do you mean, Irritating?” Renly raised an eyebrow. As far as he was concerned, aside from the odd occasion or so where they'd had to share a smaller bed than usual inn an inn and he'd inadvertently forced Loras out of bed a few times, he thought himself rather a good bed partner. At least he didn't snore as he knew Robert too.

Loras laughed. “You can be _very_ irritating sometimes. I don't mind you clinging to me but sometimes you do elbow me in the face when you roll over and try to take me with you."

Renly grinned sheepishly. "But you don't move away then?"

Loras shrugged. "Occasionally I do go and sleep on the other side of the bed. But then you usually just steal the covers anyway." He grinned. "So most of the time I don't bother even if you do happen to be annoying the hell out of me.”

Renly sighed. “Am I really that much of a nightmare?”

“You're not a _nightmare_.” Loras smiled. “You're just a little... well, possessive sometimes. I'd always much rather sleep here with you though than on my own.”

Renly grinned. “I know you would.” The fact that Loras seemed to loathe sleeping on his own was no stranger to him, and it continued to amuse Renly greatly. 

Loras rolled his eyes. “Not that I _can't_ sleep by myself. That's not what I meant.”

Renly laughed. “Or course it's not.” He rumpled Loras' hair, earning him a scowl. “In all seriousness though, I don't keep you awake do I?”

Loras shrugged. “Not often” He laughed. "Sometimes you talk a lot though and that's just too entertaining to sleep through."

Renly groaned. “What do I say?” The fact that he talked in sleep was not news to him and yet he felt embarrassed just thinking about it. 

“Oh all sorts.” Loras grinned. “Usually it's rather incoherent things, or you'll tell me that you need to speak to this lord or that lord. The list of things you apparently urgently need to tell Penrose is so long we'd be here for years if I went through it.”

“Do I ever talk about you?” Part of Renly thought he probably didn't want to know and yet his curiosity got the better of him.

“Lots.” Loras' grin widened. “Usually it's rather crude actually, something along the lines of you telling me to roll over so you can fuck me." He sighed deeply. "I usually oblige and yet you never do. It's quite the disapppintment."

Renly cringed slightly. "Well that's not very nice of me."  
  
Loras laughed. "Sometimes you're rather more courteous though. You tell me quite often that I'm lovely. Which I suppose is nice of you.”

Renly groaned. He supposed it was nice of him but he'd much rather tell Loras those sort of things while he was awake. 

Loras grinned. “When I was younger you were forever saying that you refused to send me away. I've no idea where that one came from. I'd probably done something insolent or something the day before. And often you used to call for Stannis. Which wasn't that odd I suppose, but felt definitely odd those times later on when we were both naked and tangled up with each other. I'd never met him then, and part of me used to imagine this old bald man storming into your bedroom, grinding his teeth as you always told me he did."

Renly laughed. He suppposed that wasn't altogether surprising. Where most people would have called for their mother as an infant, he'd called for Stannis. 

"And quite often you seem to be trying to get away from something, or someone more often than not. It usually varies who. Somtimes it's Red Ronnet, or Tywin Lannister. Most amusingly once it was Prince Oberyn and you kept telling me over and over again that he was charging at you with his sandsteed and you had nowhere to go."

Renly laughed. "Sounds about right. Anyone with any sense would try and get away from all three of those people."  
  
Loras grinned. "Red Ronnet I can understand, he's a piece of shit, and Prince Oberyn too, but Tywin Lannister? Don't tell me you're afraid of that old fool who does nothing but turn up to wars late and shit out gold?"  
  
Renly raised an eyebrow. "Have you ever met Tywin Lannister Loras?" 

Loras laughed. "No, but I doubt he's very frightening."

Renly laughed. "I wish you'd been around to tell me that when I was six." He remembered well the first time he'd met Tywin Lannister. It had been just before Robert's wedding and Stannis had scolded him for not having the courage to stand up tall when the fearsome blonde man had peered sternly down at him. He supposed though that Loras had probably never been frightened in his life though. It would just not occur to Loras to be so.

They stayed in bed for much of the morning until eventually Loras insisted they get up with more than a little bit of reluctance. 

Loras drew back the curtains while he got dressed and Renly finally had the chance to look around Loras' bedroom. It was surprisingly familiar Renly found, for a room he'd never been in before in his life. Many of the things Renly recognised from his old room at Storm's End were here also, the shield propped up by the window, and a large box Loras used to store bits and bobs in by the foot of the bed. There was a distinct absence of any toys though and Renly wondered whether this was because Loras had moved them out of his room upon coming home or because he had never been interested in anything swordplay even when he'd been a child. Renly had to admit he veered towards the latter explanation. The only real evidence in fact that showed a child had ever lived in this room was the small stack of books on one of the shelves, most of which looked virtually untouched.

Loras dragged him out of bed shortly after and they did a good job of ignoring Renly's imminent departure until early afternoon. They had taken advantage of the usual glorious weather to sit outside with Willas and Margaery while their parents saw off the remainder of the guests and it wasn't long until Willas broached the subject, ever sensible as usual. 

“Are you looking forward to seeing Sunspear?” Willas asked. 

Renly smiled and nodded despite the sinking feeling in his stomach at the thought of leaving Loras. “Should be rather amusing." He said though. He laughed. Aand yet I don't look forward much to the journey. I've been told it's rather a long way.”

Loras shrugged. “It's not far as the crow flies, but you've got all those bloody mountains in the way I guess.”

Willas nodded. “It is rather a shame there's no way through on the western side." He mused, merely putting Loras' sentiments into rather more polite words. "Which route are you taking?”

“West to Nightsong and then through the Prince's Pass.” Renly told him as if he had looked at the maps himself. Penrose had done all that for him and was dealing with all the arrangements from his vantage point in Storm's End. Hopefully, if all went to plan, all the things he needed for the journey would be awaiting at Nightsong along with a guide to get them through the Prince's Pass.

“It's a long road.” Willas said thoughtfully. “And not an easy one either. Once you're past Nightsong and out of the Stormlands, I believe there's nothing until you reach Skyreach. No houses, no inns, nothing but bare rock and a road that's hard on the horses' feet.” He gave a small smile. "The Prince's Pass has always fascinated me. You have House Caron on one side with their nightingales and House Fowler on the other with their hawkes. I've always wondered if the two bird sigils are a coincidence."

Renly smiled as he forced himself not to grimace as the first half of Willas' words. He was already dreading getting to Dorne. The prince's Pass sounded like a nightmare and once he was through it, the prospect of the desert that came after it wasn't particularly appealing either.

“And will you be going straight back to Kings Landing?” Loras posed his question as a casual one and yet Renly knew it was anything but.

“Pretty much. I'm detouring back home briefly to sort things out with Penrose. I still need to find a decent household and set of personal guards to take to court " He sighed. "But yes, for all intents and purposes I'm going straight back to Kings Landing.”

Loras just nodded and let Renly quickly change the subject.

........................................

Renly left for Dorne late that evening. He and Loras said goodbye after dinner and at Renly's insistence, didn't come back with him to his chambers to help him sort out his things. That was for the best, Renly had thought, otherwise he no doubt would have ended up overthinking the matter and begging Loras to come to Dorne with him. He'd had come, Renly knew, had he asked Loras to, and whilst part of him was desperate for them not to part, the more sensible part of him told him that he'd feel guilty if he was the cause of Loras missing the many tourneys that he'd worked so hard for. 

A short, sweet goodbye was better anyhow Renly told himself as he rode out of Highgarden at dusk. More practical, less emotional, better for both of them. Even so, he'd only got a few miles out of Highgarden before he was missing Loras with a desperation he couldn't give words to.

It was a nice enough ride though to Nightsong, south-west from Highgarden through the Reach until they crossed the border back into his own territory. 

They reached Night song by mid-afternoon on the second day after rather a leisurely ride, and Renly was pleased to see Penrose had indeed organised everything. For even as they approached the keep of House Caron, Renly could see that several wagons were stationed outside the gates, no doubt containing provisions for getting through the pass and sent by Penrose. What surprised him though, and even made him smile slightly despite the absence of Loras, was the fact that several of his usual guard seemed to have been sent from Storm's End too, and Renly grinned at their familiar faces and sigils. 

Lord Bryce Caron met him at the gates, and he was very aimiable despite being one of the Storm Lords Renly knew decidedly less well. He'd only met him rather briefly during his coming of age tour of the Stormlands, mainly because Renly was led to believe that he was usually off competing in tourneys. 

He held a feast though for Renly and his retinue that night and Renly found that they got on famously. Lord Bryce reminded him strangely of himself. Like Renly, he was rather a young lord, raised to such a rank as a young boy when the rest of his family had sucuumbed to a chill. His sisters had died first, then his parents, and finally his younger brother, the boy who, had he lived, would have saved the poor Maid of Tarth from the misfortune of being bethrothed to Red Ronnet. And so all of a sudden, Bryce had found himself lord of a castle he hadn't expected to be lord of for many years. And so, like Renly had been, he'd been passed from castellan to maester until he'd come of age. 

Lord Bryce seemed to acknowledge too that they had grown up in rather similar situations and Renly surprised himself by even talking to the young lord of his parents that evening, a subject he didn't often broach even with Loras, who with his close-knit family of cousins and aunts and siblings, was distinctly unable to understand what it was like to be orphaned. 

He missed him terribly that night though and whilst in bed in the wonderfully furnished room lord Bryce had provided for him, Renly found himself unable to sleep, unable to dwell on anything save how cold the bed was or how when he reached out all he touched was empty sheets. He tossed and turned for several hours before he eventually gave in to his restlessness, getting out of bed and lighting a candle. He covered three sides of parchment with ease writing to Loras and fell asleep halfway through the fourth, awakening in the morning to see that the candle had burnt out and he'd smudged the ink slightly by using the parchment as a pillow.

The morning was a hurried one, with just enough time to dress and shave before he had to be outside directing the men to load the wagons. He managed to send his letter to Loras just before they left though, not being hopeful that they would find anywhere with ravens until they reached Skyreach. 

That thought was confirmed when they got first glimpse of the Prince's Pass as they began their journey south. It was a steep road, very narrow in parts, winding up into the mountains. And even from a distance Renly could see that every so now and then there would be a sheer drop on one side or the other. Once they reached it, it took Renly only a hours to realise quite why dorne was almost impossible to conquer. It was a rougher road than even he had imagined and as Willas had promised, there were no inns or keeps. Only rock and the occasional well. He was suddenly glad Penrose had thought to get him a guide. It was indeed a perilous road and every now and again their guide, a stony dornishman who apparently made his living ferrying people from one end of the pass to the other, would bark orders. More than once, he saved one of the wagons from tumbling over the edge where the rock crumbled away. 

So heavily laden, it would take them several days to get through the pass, and every night they would set up their tents in the best place they could find, though how one bit of hard rock was preferable over another, Renly had no idea. It took the strength of several men to get the pegs in and by the time they were up, most were so weary that they wished they hadn't bothered.

Renly supposed his tent was comfortable enough. It had a bed of sorts that the squires of his men assembled every night and whilst it was probably the most uncomfortable thing Renly had ever slept on, he supposed it was better than sleeping on bare rock though.

He'd have given up his bed entirely though, however, just to be able to bathe. Aside from the occasional wells which held enough water for drinking and for them to water the horses, the red mountains seemed as dry as the narrow sea was damp. By the second day, Renly was more desperate for a bath than he'd ever been in his life. He didn't think he'd ever felt less clean. He was sandy and dusty, and when he ran his hands through his hair, it felt dirty to the touch. To make matters worse, he hadn't shaved since NIghtsong and it itched something terrible. 

By the third day, Renly was beginning to feel glad that Loras hadn't come. He imagined that had Loras ever seen him like this, with his hair dirty and something between coarse stubble and the beginnings of a beard on his jaw, he'd have probably refused to come to bed with him ever again. 


	64. Chapter 64

The guide that Penrose had found had informed Renly upon leaving Nightsong that they should get through the Prince's Pass in little more than three or four days if they made good time which had seemed reasonable to Renly.

It was clear to say though that they didn't make good time. Renly supposed the delays were partly his fault, due to his unwillingness to travel late into the evening and his tendency to like to spend a lot more time than was necessary lingering by the occasional wells, taking advantage of the sparse water sources to at least splash a little water on his face and feel a little more refreshed. There were definitely delays though that weren't his fault. He could do nothing to prevent one of the draft horses pulling the wagons throwing its shoe on the rocky earth and consequently becoming lame. He couldn't help it either when Grandison, a generally disagreeable young knight at the best of times, took offence at Ser Guyard's constant singing as they ate their evening meal. Ser Guyard of course took offence and no matter how much sense Renly tried to talk into each of them, they still refused to cooperate, a dispute which ended up setting them back hours.

They reached Skyreach on the tenth day, a good six days after they should have done.

Renly didn't think he'd ever been more pleased to see anywhere as he was to see that ancient keep of House Fowler. It was late afternoon when they arrived and lord Franklyn greeted them more cordially than he would have expected, giving them rooms and telling them that a meal fit for a king was being prepared, which, after eating rather measly portions for the last ten days, Renly found himself looking greatly forward to..

It was the bath though that Renly enjoyed most at Skyreach. He spent over an hour in the tub, leisurely washing his hair and savouring the feeling of finally feeling clean again. And whilst the soaps that Lord Fowler had provided them with were strange to him, smelling of strange spices, they did their job though and Renly found the unfamiliar scents quite pleased him after a while.

He dried himself slowly afterwards, trying not to dwell too much on the rather mirky colour of the water he'd just got out of or the fact that there was a decent layer of sand now at the bottom of the tub.

He dithered quite a bit though as he tried to decide what to do about shaving. Usually he did this himself, a habit he'd got into after several rather embarrassing ordeals when he had first started needing to shave at the tender young age of ten and three. One of the Storm's End pages had used to do it for him back then, an attractive young lad who in complete innocence had used to lean in far too close to Renly. After sitting through several rather uncomfortable experiences, most of which involved Renly trying to inconspicuously put a cushion over his lap, he'd put his foot down and said never again.

His stubble now, however, was halfway to a beard really and Renly didn't know where to start with dealing with that. He eventually decided upon asking one of the chambermaids to send someone up after dinner, preferably someone skilled, to do it for him. As it happened though, there was no time to do anything about it now and Renly supposed it didn't look that scruffy. If anything, it made him look quite distinguished, he thought, and he imagined House Fowler were used to travellers looking a little less than perfectly turned out. Most of the men he was travelling with looked similar anyhow.

To his amusement, many of the men were talking about that very same issue when he descended for dinner, Ser Guyard rubbing his stubbly chin with a rather disdainful look on his face whilst the other men teased one of the squires for the fact that his jaw was still bare and smooth after ten days of travelling.

Renly smiled wryly at that as he sat down. If Loras had been here, he'd most likely have been on the receiving end of more than a little bit of teasing too. He bit back a sigh as he dwelt on that. Whilst he was glad to have familiar people travelling with him, they did little to ease the ache of Loras' absence.

“I see you too my lord are favouring the bearded look still.” One of the men, a chirpy young man from Mistwood, piped up. He himself was sporting some surprisingly impressive stubble, dark blond and less patchy than some of the others'.

Renly laughed. “True. Hopefully for not much longer though. I dare say after dinner, I shall return to my usual look.”

The guide though, sitting at the end of the table on account of the men not liking him and his authority very much, laughed at that though and shook his head. “With all due respect my lord Renly, I should not recommend that.”

“And why not?” Renly retorted, a little taken aback by the guide's impertinence. He too had not been all too fond of listening to the man for the last ten days as he forever insisted they press on despite the intense heat and the fact they were all exhausted.

And he perhaps realised that he wasn't in Renly's good books for he remained silent and it was Ser Guyard who answered instead. “ _Apparently_ ," he glanced sideways at the stony dornishman. "And these are his words not mine, we would be god-damned fools to clean-shave ourselves here when we will see as little water between here and Sunspear as we saw in those bloody mountains." He laughed. "He says it's a foolish idea unless we rather enjoyed the itching we all complained from dusk until dawn about.”

Renly sighed. He supposed that explained why the guide had one of the most bushy beards he'd ever seen. Ser Guyard's words irritated him though; he imagined it would be much more comfortable to be clean-shaven in this heat. At the same time though, he did remember all too well how terribly his jaw had itched in the Prince's Pass. It still itched slightly now and yet Renly had to concede that the desperation to scratch incessantly at his jaw was quickly fading.

“Perhaps you're right.” Renly admitted. He supposed he ought to feel lucky that he at least had hair that seemed to grow quite quickly. Some of the men about him had distinctly patchy  
hair over their chins and Renly couldn't begin to imagine how embarrassed he'd be to look like that. There was nothing worse, he thought, than a man who couldn't grow a proper beard not being clean-shaven. It just served to draw attention to the fact that one wasn't old or mature enough to grow proper facial hair.

They didn't discuss the matter any further for dinner was served then, a serving boy banging a large gong as the food was brought out. It was indeed as glorious a feast as Lord Fowler had promised. It seemed yoo that they were very conscious of the fact that Renly and his party were not dornishmen, for whilst there appeared to be some traditional dornish food, most of the dishes were quite familiar to Renly, something for which they were all rather grateful. It was too late in the day and they were too worn out from their journey for experimenting with food that could burn the roof of your mouth off.

It was late before they ascended to their chambers despite their tiredness, and yet Renly was delighted to see a maester hurrying towards him as he started to climb the stairs, several letters in his hands. He took them up to bed with them, pleased to note that at least one of the letters on top appeared to be from Loras for it bore a wax seal. Another bore Storm's End's seal and so it was no doubt from Penrose.

As soon as he was in his chambers, he climbed into bed with them, not being able to help sulking a little on account of still not having shaved. He opened Penrose's first, to get the boring ones over with, and discovered indeed that it was mainly just asking him to let him know when he had reached Sunspear and to keep him in the loop in regards to any plans he still had for returning to Storm's End on the journey back.

He climbed back out of bed to read Loras', quickly having learnt that one wasn't supposed to lie _in_ the bed in Dorne unless they wanted to die of heat. It was a long letter and Renly spent a good few minutes just looking happily at it and indulging himself by imagining Loras writing it, perhaps in bed, or maybe sitting by the window with the sunlight playing in his hair.

Loras' tone was oddly cheerful and Renly got the distinct feeling that Loras was making a deliberate attempt to cheer him up. He regretted slightly sending that letter from Nightsong now. He'd been in a foul mood and had been missing Loras terribly and he supposed that four pages which mainly consisted of _why aren't you here with me_ was probably not the most sensible thing to send to Loras.

He had to smile though as Loras told him of how things were at Highgarden. Garlan and Leonette had apparently surfaced from Garlan's bedchamber not long after he had left for Nightsong, and according to Loras, they were being thoroughly sickening. _They're acting like she's a mare in heat,_ Loras told him with obvious disdain even in ink. _They seem to fuck in the morning, fuck after lunch, in the evening, before supper, all night too. I thought we were quite terrible for not being able to keep our hands off each other, but I think even Garlan and Leonette might actually be worse. They're definitely worse at hiding it at any rate. Then again, now that they're married, I suppose they don't have to._

He sounded quite desperate to get away from it all and Renly was pleased to read that Loras was preparing to leave for a tourney at Longtable. Loras told him that after much persuasion, he had finally convinced his father to let Margaery come with him. This apparently though came at a price. _I have no words for how many men father is going to send with us,_ Loras complained. _It's at least fifty which considering that we're hardly going any further than Cider Hall is just plain ridiculous. Apparently, since it was at a tourney that Lyanna Stark was carried off, there must be hoards of people lying in wait for my sister at Longtable. That aside though,_ _I think I've chosen my squire to take with me. Whilst my father tells me that Randyll Tarly was keen that I should have his youngest son. (not Piggy though wouldn't that be amusing?”), I didn't much fancy the boy. He's not really old enough really and Margaery tells me that he has the reputation already for being a bit of a snitch. He tells his father everything apparently. And I thought you might not like that if we spend much time together at court._

Too right, Renly thought. He couldn't imagine anything worse than either he or Loras having a squire that enjoyed nosing around. He was pleased to read thus that Loras was planning on taking a reliable, faithful sort of boy, a green apple Fossoway who was one of Loras' cousins on his father's side. Apparently the boy, a Tommas Fossoway, and Renly could tell immediately that the boy's mother was a Tyrell for seemed that the Tyrells had a insatiable fondness for names ending in -as, was a rather shy boy of eleven who showed some potential with a sword. Renly supposed that it was a good thing he was rather quiet, for he imagined a very chirpy sort of boy might struggle with Loras who, whilst he would no doubt be courteous towards any squire of his, was definitely not one for mindless chattering on. 

The thought of Loras with a squire made him laugh a little though. He wasn't sure loras would be all too good at it if he was honest with himself. He had little doubt that Loras would make sure the boy progressed well with a sword but he imagined that any squire of his would find it rather difficult to approach him with anything more personal. Loras was many things but _approachable_ was not one of them. Renly supposed he and Loras were opposites in that respect. Loras would excel at producing a decent warrior whilst he would be rather a lot better at dealing with any homesickness or anything more personal than not knowing the best way to parry a blow. 

Saying that though, Renly couldn't remember Loras ever asking him anything particularly personal. He'd more often than not shared Renly's bed by the time he was twelve and yet he'd never come to Renly asking anything with personal questions or worries. They'd talked occasionally of things, Loras asking him once whether he'd ever been to bed with a girl, but apart from that Loras had never seemed at all in need of his advice as he changed from a boy to a young man He supposed though that Loras was so self-assured, he'd probably never felt he needed to ask him about any of those changes or feel at all confused by them in the first place.

There were a good few more pages from Loras, mainly detailing who was going to be at the tourney and Loras' speculations about who would get how far. Renly read through this rather quickly. Judging from when the letter was dated, the tourney would definitely be over by now and Renly suspected he could probably find out who placed where with relative ease. It was the last few lines or so that made Renly's chest feel tight though.

 _I wish you were here too_ Loras had written. _It_ _feels quite strange now that you're gone and I should have liked nothing better than for you to come with me to Longtable. I hope things have improved where you are. Your last letter worried me Renly. I hate to think of you miserable or at all like you seemed in that letter. Are you sure you're all right?_

Renly regretted that first letter even more having read that. He hated to think that he had worried Loras. He should have had enough sense not to send something he'd written in the middle of the night when half asleep and feeling terribly homesick. 

The third letter too was from Loras and this surprised him. It had evidently been sent in a hurry for whilst it was sealed, he seemingly hadn't bothered to press the Highgarden rose into it. It was much shorter than the last and was essentially no more than a few lines.

 _Where are you?_  it read. _Willas_ _tells me it's two days through the pass, three or four if you've a lot with you like you have. But it's been seven now, and you still haven't written back. You should have been at Skyreach days ago. Is something wrong?_

That letter made Renly feel quite desolate. Loras was typically very unflappable and to get a letter like that from him made him feel quite terrible. He wrote back immediately, putting his clothes back on and going straight to the ravenry even though it was quite dark now and he was so tired he could easily have fallen asleep on the stairs.

When he finally did lie down to go to sleep, he felt quite anxious, unable to think of anything else save Loras sitting in Highgarden and waiting for a letter he'd only just sent.

…...............................................................................

They arrived at Sunspear a few days later, the dry arid land proving comparitively easier to travel across than the Prince's Pass had been, despite the searing heat and lack of water. They were all covered in sand by the time they reached those famous walls and for the thousandth time since setting off, Renly was reminded quite why Dorne was difficult to invade. Even supposing you did make it through the mountains and the desert with an army behind you, you'd find yourself at the triple walls of Sunspear, standing at the threefold gate and wondering how on earth you could enter into the city.

Today, however, those gates were open, an escort clad in the bright orange and reds of the Martell sun awaiting them. A broad-shouldered man with white hair stood at the head of them, a long-axe in his hands despite the peaceful nature of Renly's visit.

He introduced himself as the captain of the guard and proceeded to lead them through the city.

It was quite a magnificent sight, Renly thought as they made their way up to the old palace, passing houses of marble as they went, their shutters thrown wide open despite the fact that dusk had already fallen. The old palace itself too would rival even Highgarden in its beauty and splendor and Renly found himself enchanted as he gazed upon the Tower of the Sun with its dome of gold and the Spear Tower with its equally glorious dome of gilded steel. Even the walls of the palace were splendid, with huge mosaiques of bright oranges and reds and murials that stretched from the ground to dizzying heights.

Renly wasn't surprised to see though that Prince Doran was not waiting for him when they arrived at Sunspear. It was very late and he had been led to believe that the ailing lord spent most of his time at the Water Gardens anyway. He wasn't sure at all if he would even get to see the ruling leader of Dorne during his trip.

“Ser,” Renly adressed the captain of the guard as such for lack of any better idea, “Is Prince Doran currently residing at Sunspear?”

“No my lord.” the man replied, speaking with an accent that was strange to Renly. “The Crown Princess and Prince Oberyn will receive you tomorrow. Should it please you my lord, we shall have a meal brought to your chambers as soon as possible.”

Renly just nodded politely. He had hoped that Prince Oberyn would somehow be away from Sunspear and yet there was no reason he would be. Renly imagined that the rumours of Prince Oberyn being the real ruling power in Dorne whilst Doran was at the Water Gardens were probably formed from truth. Being recieved by him and the princess wasn't a prospect he was looking forward to however. He was rather glad though that they would be having dinner brought up to their rooms. He was exhausted and despite having no wish to see either Princess Arianne or her volatile uncle, he didn't fancy being received by them looking like he hadn't washed his hair in days.

And whilst Renly found it odd that they hadn't been properly recieved in spite of the late hour, he had to admit that the room he had been given was beautiful. The walls were whitewashed and simple and yet a splendid four-poster bed stood in the centre of the room with silk curtains hung all around. The sheets on the bed were of silk too, gloriously bright in burnt and terracotta reds that felt cool against his skin even in the heat. Large sash windows looked out over Sunspear and Renly was pleased to see they had been thrown open for him, a breeze coming in off the sea that did little to combat the heat but which was very welcome all the same. 

The only thing that appeared to be missing was a bath, and Renly wondered whether he would have to ask for one to be brought up when the food arrived. 

He didn't have to wait long thankfully, and within minutes a rather foreign looking serving girl had appeared at the door.

“I'd like a bath and water brought up.” Renly told her with a smile as she set down the tray on the table. 

The girl seemed confused at his request though. “Baths downstairs lord Baratheon” She said, her grasp of common tongue evidently not as good as it could be.

Renly raised an eyebrow. "All the baths are downstairs? Well couldn't one be moved?"

“Baths downstairs.” She repeated, moving back to the doorway. “Heated by the rock. Baths for ladies and baths for men."

Renly was bemused at that. From what he could grasp, she was telling him that people bathed here, not in tubs, but somewhere on the ground level, perhaps where there were hot springs under the ground. As she exited, Renly briefly contemplated eating his food and then going in search of these baths she talked about and getting clean before turning in for the night. But then he glanced at the bed and decided he could wait till morning. 

He picked at the food though before undressing for the night, finding it more spicy than he could have imagined. It did indeed burn the roof of his mouth and Renly found himself reaching desperately for the glass of water on the table with every mouthful. 

As with the baths, it seemed indeed that the Dornish really did do things differently.


	65. Chapter 65

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry everyone! Just reread this today and realised that not only am I missing a paragraph but I have also made about three spelling mistakes per line it seems! This is what happens I guess when I update late at night...

Renly rose early the next morning, just as it was beginning to get light. Usually, the thought of doing such a thing would have horrified him and yet for the first time in his life he'd found himself too uncomfortable to sleep, tossing and turning in the heat as his skin stuck even to the cool silken sheets.

He sat watching the dawn for a few moments, wondering if Loras was watching the same sun rise from wherever he was this morning. It wouldn't be unlike Loras, Renly mused, for him to be up at this time and he could just picture him now, sitting on a window ledge in Highgarden and watching the reds merge into yellows and oranges against the blue of the sky.

He dressed in the coolest clothes he owned before setting off without further delay in search of the baths. He found them surprisingly easily. Like the serving girl had said, they were on the ground floor and were essentially little more than hollows carved into the rock beneath the palace. They had a certain rustic charm and to his relief they were completely empty, the water lying still and undisturbed. This was hardly a surprise, Renly thought, at this time in the morning you would have to be a fool to be up voluntarily.

He undressed warily though, hanging his clothes over a jutting bit of rock before climbing naked into the nearest bathing pool. It was a pleasant temperature and Renly relaxed a bit as he scrubbed himself clean, taking several layers of his skin off no doubt as he did his best to remove the sand and grit that seemed unwilling to move. By the time he was done, his skin was rather red and Renly reckoned that he'd probably make himself bleed if he tried to scrub himself anymore. He moved on thus to washing his hair, taking his time as he massaged the soap into his scalp. He always found this quite an enjoyable experience and his only current complaint was that Loras wasn't here with him to do it for him. The baths were easily big enough for three or four people to sit comfortably in a circle and he imagined that he and Loras could have rather quite a bit of fun in baths such as these. 

The sun was properly up by the time he got out, and he returned to his chambers rather hurriedly. He had spent much of the night going over this conundrum and he had finally decided that he would shave the stubble he'd grown off for the duration of his visit in Sunspear. He knew that it would itch once more on the way back, and yet Renly thought that a decent price to pay for being slightly cooler during the fortnight or so that he'd be here. 

Shaving was easier said than done though and Renly thought he must have blunted his razor entirely by the time he was done. He looked presentable though and whilst it wasn't as close a shave as he usually got, he supposed that it didn't really matter seeing as Loras wasn't around to have to put up with scratchy kisses.

Most of his guard was waiting for him when he descended, standing about at the foot of the stairs and sweating already despite the fact that the sun was barely up. They too were dressed in light clothing and Renly almost didn't recognise them out of their armour and travelling clothes. Ser Guyard had even put aside his usual green Morrigen cloak, a garment Renly had never seen him without. It appeared though that he and Ser Narbert Grandison still weren't talking though and Renly made sure to put them on either side of him as they entered the dining chambers.

The Captain of the Guard announced his arrival as soon as they were through the doors and everyone in the hall clambered to their feet in a show of respect. Everyone save the three dark haired figures that sat at the top of the table, one of which Renly recognised as Prince Oberyn. The others he supposed had to be the princess and one of her younger brothers, probably Prince Trystane, Renly thought, for he had thought that the other had been sent away to foster at Yronwood. 

The princess was indeed as beautiful as Renly had been led to believe, with black curly hair that fell to the middle of her back and big dark eyes framed by long lashes. Renly liked to think himself a very open-minded individual, he had to be considering the life he led with Loras, and yet he couldn't help but feel a little shocked even so by the princess' attire. Had he not known she was the heiress to Dorne, he might have thought her a whore, if a very expensive and glamorous one. Her dress was slashed almost to her waist, her breasts barely covered by the deep plum coloured material that clung to every curve.

What surprised him even more though was the lady now standing at Prince Oberyn's right side, the pair so close that Oberyn's shoulder was rubbing against her side. He knew the viper to be unmarried and so he supposed that the lady was probably not a lady at all but rather a paramour of sorts. He knew that the Dornish were rather liberal in regards to such things, and yet he had to admit though that he was rather taken aback to see her present at Oberyn's side to receive him. 

He didn't have much time to study her though for the Princess had risen to her feet, and instead of curtseying as most ladies would, she was walking straight towards him, flicking her long hair over her shoulder and with an expression of mild surprise in her eyes as she looked him up and down, evidently pleased with what she saw. 

“Lord Renly.” She stood up on her tiptoes and whilst Renly was a little taken aback, he did bend to allow her to kiss his cheek. She kissed him on both, slowly, first on the left and then on the right, and Renly wondered whether this was Dornish custom or whether this style of greeting was unique to Arianne. 

“Princess Arianne” He returned, taking a small step backwards despite himself. “I'm honoured to visit.”

“As we are honoured to receive you.” She almost purred back. She reminded Renly somehow of lord Merryweather's wife who had pressed herself so close when dancing. Yet whilst Lady Taena had been the epitome of seduction, subtlety seemed quite beyond the young Princess Arianne.

She was so unsubtle that Renly couldn't help but feel a little bemused He didn't quite know how to respond to her at all. He didn't wish to encourage her nor did he wish to slight her, so he just smiled as brightly as he could manage and decided that perhaps pretending not to notice her attempts at seduction might be the best policy. All the same though, he took her arm when he was offered it and let her lead him over to the high table.

“This is my brother Trystane.” she told him, pointing at the young boy still seated. He couldn't have been any older than about seven or eight and he smiled shyly up at Renly as he stammered over his greetings. Arianne moved on rather swiftly. “And this is my uncle Oberyn, lord Renly.” She glanced sultrily up at him through her long lashes. “Don't listen to what everyone says about him, his bark is worse than his bite.”

Oberyn did not stand. "We've met sweetling." He told Arianne silkily, a small smile on his lips. "And I shouldn't go telling lord Renly lies."

Renly gulped. He had to admit he agreed with Prince Oberyn. His bark wasn't so bad, he remembered him being rather charming actually, but it was the bite that worried him. He'd heard too many tales of the viper's venom than he would have liked.

“It's a pleasure to see you again prince Oberyn.” he said, forcing himself to meet the black viper eyes. He felt a little reassured though when he glanced up and down the table and saw no sign of his blue-eyed squire.

The viper laughed wryly as if he could guess what was running through Renly's mind. “I hope you find Dorne to your taste.” He gestured widely to the table and Renly took a seat next to Prince Trystane, his guard following his example and taking seats also.

The food was less spicy than it had been last night and so Renly wondered if they saved the heat for the evenings perhaps. Even so, the food was strange, full of seeds that looked and tasted peculiar to Renly and enriched with flavours that he wasn't all too sure he liked. Even the fruits were different and the pinkish-red orbs Renly had thought to be apples turned out to be nothing of the sort, for they were filled with bright pink seeds.

Still, he and his men ploughed through the meal with brave faces and Renly did his best to talk to the princess. He found her very opinionated, not at all like the women he was used to engaging with back home. She had obviously been encouraged to cultivate her views rather than agree with everything that was said to her, which Renly supposed to be a good thing seeing as she was to take her father's place one day.  
Prince Oberyn on the other hand remained silent for much of the meal, sitting easily back in his chair with his hand on his paramour's arm as he watched Renly and his niece with an unreadable smile upon his face.

Princess Arianne took Renly and his party out into the courtyard after that, whilst Prince Oberyn apparently met with his brother's bannermen. That was quite a pleasant experience, Renly thought. They didn't do much at all, instead lounging around on wooden chairs as servants brought them plates of fruit. It was at least shady with large trees sheltering them from the sweltering sun. It wasn't cool by any standards and yet when Renly rolled up his silken sleeves and loosened his collar a little, it was almost bearable.

Besides, Princess Arianne and her handmaidens kept their minds off the heat, and Renly found it greatly amusing to watch the expressions on the faces of his guards as the dornish women seemingly did their best to seduce them. Before long, several of the women were sitting at the feet of his men, or even on their laps, cooling them with brightly coloured fans that matched their dresses.

When it was time for the siesta, a crucial part of the dornish day Renly was informed, he had much doubt that many of them would be returning to their chambers alone, and suspected that few among their number would be indeed getting any sleep at all.

None of Arianne's handmaidens attempted to follow _him_ up to his chambers though, and so Renly assumed that meant the princess herself rather fancied having him for herself, a prospect which rather unnerved him.  He supposed that had to be the case though, for even the more homely members of his guard had been paid at least some attention by the playful women.

Sleep came quite more easily to Renly now than it had done last night and he found that he fell into a deep slumber as soon as he lay down on his bed, the heat draining him of all energy. He woke after only a couple of hours though, his hair sticking uncomfortably to his forehead.

He felt a little better once he'd splashed a little water on his face and after straightening his clothes, he descended ready to face the dornish once more. He must have not slept as long as he was supposed to though, or else everyone aside from him was still busy fucking each other, for the palace was deserted, his footsteps echoing loudly down the marble corridors.

Eventually though, he came across Ser Guyard sitting alone in the courtyard they'd been in earlier. He looked weary as Renly sat down next to him and Renly suspected he was struggling with the heat too.

“Enjoying Dorne?” Renly asked.

“It's hot my lord isn't it?” Ser Guyard laughed. “I thought it was rather warm back home and yet now it seems like that was winter compared to here.”

Renly laughed. “Indeed isn't it so.” He sighed. “Still arguing with Grandison?” He wondered if that was the reason Ser Guyard was out here alone. 

Ser Guyard nodded. “Yes.” he laughed. “Ever since he was knighted, he seems unwilling to even listen to anything I say.” He grinned. "He might not like songs and yet the way he holds his lance is still terrible."

The fact that Narbert Grandison had been until recently Ser Guyard's squire had completely slipped Renly's mind. All the same though, he nodded as though he remembered well for he knew that Ser Guyard liked to think himself and Renly reasonably well acquainted. Renly laughed. "Did he listen to you even when he was your squire? I'm quite sure mine didn't!"

Ser Guyard sighed. “True. We were never fond of each other even before he was knighted."

That didn't surprise Renly. Both the men had rather large egos. Grandison no doubt hated being told anything and Ser Guyard had probably relished his superiority too much. He imagined that this was a rather common problem in squiring arrangements where the age gap was rather a small one. 

“We used to argue all the time my lord.” Ser Guyard laughed. “Knights aren't supposed to argue with their squires. Shouldn't have stood for it. I doubt you and Tyrell ever argued did you? Even if he did never listen to you.”

Renly shrugged. “No we did." And that was the truth Renly supposed. Whilst he and Loras hadn't argued often, there had a handful of occasions where Loras and he had grown frustrated at each other, usually ending with Renly grovelling.

Ser Guyard laughed. “You were probably the only person who didn't argue with Tyrell.”

Renly gave a wry smile. He imagined that that probably had something to do with the fact that he'd been sleeping with Loras for much of his squiring years.

“Do you and Tyrell still get on now my lord?” 

Renly laughed. “Yes we do. And I dare say you and Narbert will learn to get along in time.” 

Ser Guyard sighed. “Perhaps.” He laughed. “I dare say we'll never get along as well as you and Tyrell do.”

Renly didn't disagree with that, but he imagined it was probably for the best that Ser Guyard and Grandison didn't get along quite as well as he and Loras did. He didn't imagine either of them would be too happy with that turn of events. "Speaking of squires" he laughed. "I'm currently searching for a new one. Any ideas? No relatives that would do a decent job?"

Ser Guyard looked so proud to have been asked that Renly thought he could almost see him start to glow. "I'm honoured you think a relative of mine would be suitable my lord," He sighed though and looke a little disappointed. "But alas I am the youngest of my brothers and of all my cousins too." 

Renly sighed. "A shame, but if you think of someone, let me know."

Ser Guyard nodded and they sat in a comfortable silence until the rest of the men descended, many with flushed faces and women on their arms. The sun was hotter now despite it being past midday and Renly found that before long he was feeling quite uncomfotable. His clothes were stuck to him and if decorum hadn't prevented it, Renly might have very well have opted to lie naked. 

He excused himself early as dinner approached, keen to bathe again despite having done so already this morning. He was surprised that none of the men cared to partake in baths too and yet he supposed that they found themselves rather more interested in the scantily clad dornish women than in being clean. He supposed though if the men wanted to stay dirty and sweaty that it wasn't his place to tell them otherwise. 

It appeared the women of the palace cared more about their appearance though for as Renly approached the baths, he could see many of them, serving girls and highborn ladies alike, congregating outside the women's ones. 

They smiled at him as they passed and Renly was rather glad that women and men at least had some privacy from each other. He didn't much fancy them sneaking glances at him whilst he was trying to bathe and wondering why he didn't seem at all interested in their naked forms. 

He thought at first that the men's baths were empty and yet when he peered through the steamy air more closely, he could make out the form of a man sitting in one of the baths furthest from him. His heart sunk a little when he realised it was the dornish prince, the black of his hair shining in the sunlight that was streaming through the high windows.

"Lord Renly." His voice cut through the silence and Renly supposed it was too late to turn back now without being seen to deliberately slight him. "I dare hope you will find the baths to your liking."

Renly laughed and nodded, stripping his clothes off out of the Prince's view before sinking into the nearest tub as quickly as possible. He imagined that he could be clean and out of there quite quickly if he put his mind to it seeing as he didn't need to wash his hair. He could probably get away with exchanging very few words with the dornish prince.

Oberyn laughed though and Renly heard water splashing against the rocky sides of the baths. When he glanced around he was rather alarmed to see Oberyn walking towards him, making no effort to hide his nakedness. Renly took a deep breath and did his best to avert his eyes, not wishing to linger any longer on parts of Oberyn he'd really rather not have seen. He didn't like to think what Loras would say if Renly were to tell him that he and another man were naked together in the dornish baths. 

"Come little lordling." Oberyn sank down into the same bath, his body lithe as he stretched out in the water despite his age. "That is not how we do things here."

Renly laughed and raised an eyebrow. "Forgive me if dornish customs seem a little strange still. Where I come from, one bathes in private."

Oberyn didn't take the hint though and he merely raised one of own thin black eyebrows in response.

And so Renly sighed, resigning himself to having to spend the next ten minutes or so in his company. "How fared your morning?" he asked, thinking it best to choose the topic before Oberyn went off on a tangent he wasn't overly keen on. 

"Well." the prince replied, surprisingly without any double meaning behind his words, "Arianne may well be the _governess_ of Dorne in her father's absence but I dare say she would rather have spent the morning with you and your men. He smiled and suddenly that glint in his eyes was back. “My niece seems well pleased with you.” He added mildly.

“She's a charming girl.” Renly replied, equally as mildly, not wishing to give Oberyn anything to bounce back off.

He didn't seem deterred though. “You have much in common you know,” he said silkily, his voice as smooth as butter. “I am led to believe she has much the same taste as you.”

Renly frowned. Was he trying to imply that Princess Arianne was perverse in her affections too, that she dallied with women as well as with men? It wouldn't have surprised him. From what he had seen of the princess, he could imagine she was rather liberal in her affections. 

“I don't catch your drift I'm afraid,” Renly replied truthfully, leaning back lazily against the rock and trying to give no hint as to the fact that he was at uncomfortable with the turn the conversation had taken.

Oberyn's lips twitched though and Renly could tell he was enjoying this immensely. He paused for a good long while before speaking. “I dare say that my former squire taught her much as he taught you.” He eventually said, laughing dryly as Renly tried not to grimace, realising now where he was taking this. “He asked for her hand though after taking her to bed. I dare say the thought didn't occur to him with you.” He smirked. “I hear you were quite unchivalrous.”

Renly shifted uncomfortably and felt his cheeks in danger of growing pink. He remembered well how rather put out Oberyn's squire had been when he had refused to do anything further after the boy had so willingly taken him into his mouth. He managed to keep his composure though and tried to just laugh off Oberyn's comments as if they didn't make him squirm. After all, it wasn't like he regretted not letting Oberyn's squire bed him. He was quite happy with Loras being the first person he'd made love to, and the only one too. 

Prince Oberyn fell silent for few moments after that, the smirk not leaving his viper lips though as lounged back in the tub. “How's that squire of yours.” He asked leaving Renly unsure this time as to whether this was intended to rile him up once more or if it was merely an innocent question. “You remember, the pretty one with the unruly curls and a temper to match.”

“You mean Loras Tyrell.” Renly said stiffly. It was odd referring to Loras by his full name and yet Renly supposed that was the more sensible option. He didn't want to fan the flames by appearing to be on a too friendly basis with Loras. 

“Yes,” Oberyn mused, tapping two long fingers idly against the side of the tub. “Your little rose.”

Renly smiled tightly. “He's knighted now. Gone back to Highgarden." He almost asked Oberyn about his own squire, and then decided that he was quite happy not knowing whatever had happened to that dornish boy.

“What a shame.” Oberyn said mildly. His eyes then glinted with amusement. “Tell me lord Renly, were you as stingy with your pleasure with him?”

Renly couldn't help grimace at that and he helplessly backed up as far as he could against the side of the baths. He was tempted to get out and flee, naked or not, and yet Oberyn's eyes kept him rooted to the spot. His first thought was to lie through his teeth and yet he wasn't quite sure he could pull such a lie off with the prince's eyes boring into him. 

He gulped. “I find your implications quite uncouth.” He insisted, sounding flustered even to his own ears. “My squire was twelve at that tourney you met him at. I don't know what you're trying to suggest but I kindly request that you st-”

Oberyn raised an eyebrow though and Renly found himself trailing off rather uselessly.

“But he's not two and ten now is he?” He laughed dryly. “All roses bloom with time don't they lord Renly? And he was so obviously desperate to fuck you even then.”

Renly shrugged uncomfortably and didn't answer. He hadn't thought it obvious at all to be honest and even if he had, he wouldn't have given Oberyn to pleasure of agreeing with him, nor admitting that there was anything untoward between Loras and himself.

“And I imagine he grew to be a most appealing little thing.” Prince oberyn carried on anyway and shifted closer. “It's a shame you didn't bring him. I should have liked him for mine own. Or to make a present of him to Ellaria.” He picked up a strand of Renly's hair and rolled it in between two elegant fingers. “I dare say she'd have found him a most pretty decoration for our bedchamber.” He smirked and gestured to Renly. “Or perhaps we could have shared him between ourselves instead.”

Renly coloured at that, snatching his hair away angrily. “I'd prefer it if you didn't talk about him like that.” He snapped back, not caring now if he slighted Prince Oberyn or not now since the prince had surely meant to slight him. He scowled as he thought of the prince's hands on Loras, his lusty viper mouth kissing the lithe body that was his and his alone.

Oberyn laughed loudly at that, his head inclined still towards him. “So you are overly fond of each other then.” His lips twitched again. “Enlighten me. Which one of you fucks the other?”

Renly turned even more red at that and rose from the bath, turning his back on Oberyn to not give him the satisfaction of letting his serpent eyes roam over his body. He dried himself hastily and pulled his clothes on as quickly as he could before stalking out, Oberyn's laughter echoing after him.

He wasn't in the mood for socialising after that encounter and so Renly did not head back to the courtyard before dinner. Instead he headed up to the ravenry, desperate for any news of Loras. He decided en route that even if there was nothing waiting for him there, that he'd go up to his chambers anyway and reread the last proper letter Loras had sent him, the nice long one. It appeared though that he wouldn't have to do that, for the maester there indeed handed him a rather thick letter stamped with the Highgarden rose.

He took it gladly, shutting himself up in his room with it and bolting the door just in case. He highly doubted that Prince Oberyn would follow him up here and yet just the thought of the door being locked brought Renly some comfort. 

Loras' letter was dated as such that he must have received Renly's last reassuring letter. Indeed he made several references even to things that Renly had told him in that hasty letter he'd sent from Skyreach, like the fact that Ser Narbert and Ser Guyard had fallen out. He didn't, however, acknowledge at all the fact that he'd been worried, and Renly imagined that Loras was probably feeling rather foolish and a little embarrassed about it what Loras probably considered an overreaction on his part. Usually it was Renly who needlessly worried and Loras who made fun of it for him.

He smiled though as he read through Loras' letter. He'd asked in his last letter how the tourney at Longtable had gone and Loras' response to that was rather to the point.

 _Of course I won,_ Loras told him and Renly could hear the haughtiness in his voice. _I'm surprised you needed to ask. As I told you was going to be the case, there were no kingsguard, nor either of the Cleganes there. The victory was barely worth the effort of saddling my horse._

Renly laughed at that, and whilst he was of the opinion that even very small victories counted as victories, he wasn't surprised that Loras was evidently not going to be happy until he'd won one of the big Kings Landing tourneys, or at least one hosted by one of the Great Houses. Apparently, one that was mainly attended by _useless hedge knights and second and third sons who happened to be bored that week,_ to use Loras' own words, wasn't quite good enough for him.

He did seem reasonably happy with his squire though. _The Fossoway boy is passable I guess._  He wrote. He _knows one end of a horse from the other at least even if he is rather wary of some of the larger ones. (a ridiculous notion if ever I've seen one) And he's not bad with a sword too although I dare say that his footwork is even worse than yours._

Renly smiled at that. He liked to think that Loras was having him on, but it was hard to tell with letters, and knowing Loras he very well might have been deadly serious.

_And I shall have to start from the complete beginning with his jousting. He seems terrified to ride anything other than this terribly old mare who must have been around since Aegon's Landing. I dare say that even Willas could run faster than that old nag. He panicked though when I put him on something more suitable and ended up riding it straight into the fence. Thankfully it didn't try and jump over it. I shall persevere though and I dare say that when you finally get around to finding yourself a squire, that mine shall be better than yours._

He signed off after that and Renly raised his eyebrow in amusement. If that was indeed the game then he needed to find himself a squire soon, and preferably a decent one at that. He spent the next few hours thus contemplating who might make a fair squire, going through his bannermen and making lists of who had young sons, a surprising few it seemed. House Morrigen didn't seem the only house with a lack of younger members. The only vaguely suitable candidate that Renly could think of off the top of his head was one of his distant cousins from Greenstone, Alyn, the grandson of his mother's brother. He couldn't remember the boy being sent to foster anywhere and yet he'd probably be about thirteen by now, a little old perhaps to be a squire. 

He wrote his name down though and continued going through his bannermen. It wasn't the most interesting thing Renly had ever done and yet it kept him out of the way of Prince Oberyn for which he was grateful.

He couldn't escape the viper at dinner though and Renly felt quite helpless as he was forced to sit opposite him, with Arianne and Prince Trystane on either side of him. He supposed that this was a position of honour and yet today he'd have rather eaten his dinner off the floor in the kitchens than sit opposite prince Oberyn. He'd found his anger had subsided, and yet he couldn't help but feel rather embarrassed over the whole situation. He should have known better than to play into his hands like that by losing his composure.

He took comfort in the fact though that they were now surrounded by more people than he could count, and so he threw himself into conversation with anyone who would listen, which was essentially everyone for Renly thought himself a rather good dinner guest. 

The food was brought in shortly and it did seem indeed that the Dornish had been saving their spices for later. Whilst they looked incredibly appetising with roasted meats and salads of sweetgrass, spinach, and plums, he only had to smell the dishes to know that they was going to burn his tongue.

He tried to choose the least offensive looking dishes and yet when he took the first mouthful, he almost spat it out it was so hot. All the same he persevered with great difficulty, trying to keep the pained look off his face. 

He must not have been too successful for by the time the second course was brought out, Princess Arianne was bending seductively over him. “Is the food too hot for you my lord?"

“It's lovely” Renly lied, his mouth on fire.

“I shouldn't worry, my sweetling.” Oberyn said softly to Arianne, his eyes lingering on Renly. “Us men have varied tastes don't we lord Renly?.”

Renly almost choked on his food.


	66. Chapter 66

Renly didn't dare bathe the next evening, nor the day after. Instead, he had the servants bring him up a bowl of water to wash his face with and did his best to avoid the Dornish prince as much as possible. At meals, he made sure to sit as far away from him as was respectfully allowed, and whilst Oberyn's piercing gaze would follow him as a predator might track the movements of its prey, Renly found that he could deal with this.

Outside of the dining chambers it was more difficult and so he recruited Ser Guyard and a Ser Andrew Wylde to accompany him through the corridors. They couldn't have known who or what it was that they were protecting him from and yet thankfully both had the sense not to ask why Renly had suddenly decided he needed a constant escort. If anything, the pair seemed to think that they had struck gold and that they had found themselves suddenly in their lord's favour, something that Renly happily let them believe.

And so Renly found that he saw little of Dornish prince over the next few days, instead spending his time lounging outside in the courtyard with Arianne and her companions. He found her relatively good company even if her overtures did leave him feeling distinctly uncomfortable. Without a doubt, enduring the princess' attempts to wheedle herself into his lap or have him feed her pieces of fruit off his plate was certainly a more appealing prospect than spending any time with her uncle.

And yet whilst Renly and Oberyn's paths hardly crossed, he did find that he met rather a lot of the prince's daughters, of which he seemed to have many.

“They call us the Sand Snakes.” One of them informed Renly on the third morning, a seemingly sweet girl with golden hair and large blue eyes who appeared to be one of Arianne's closest companions. “There's eight of us all together.”

“Is that so?” Renly laughed and helped himself to another peach from the platters the servants had brought out. “Do you all reside at Sunspear then?”

Tyene shook her head. “Only five of us. There's myself and then Elia, Obella, Dorea and Loreza. They're all Ellaria's daughters.”

Renly found it a little strange that she seemed to be so unembarrassed at being a bastard and yet he had to admit that he was very curious about these Sand Snakes of Oberyn's. “Was your mother a paramour of your father's as well?” he asked.

Tyene laughed but it was Arianne who answered, leaning over and putting her hand on Renly's thigh. “No” she told him, her eyes full of mirth. “She was a _septa_.” She laughed. “Though obviously not a very good one!”

Renly laughed. He imagined it would be quite easy to allow oneself to be seduced by Oberyn. For all his menace, he did have a certain charm and Renly grudgingly had to wonder whether the prince's advances would have been quite so unwelcome if he hadn't had Loras to come home to. He bit back a sigh. That was not a thought he was willing to entertain though. “Are there no male Sand Snakes?” he asked instead.

Tyene shook her head. “No brothers.” she laughed. “Only many sisters and a couple of very dear cousins.” She put her hand fondly on Arianne's arm.

Renly found that revelation a little disconcerting. He'd always suspected that he'd have a hard time enough as it was getting an heir on a woman, and yet he'd never even considered the possibility that one might have nothing but girls. He sighed, feeling a sudden chill despite the blazing heat. He could just imagine it now, stuck in Storm's End with a wife he didn't want and daughters who were no use to him at all, leaving only Robert to carry on the Baratheon name. He supposed the chances of this happening were very slim though and yet unsettlingly Oberyn proved it was indeed possible. The fact that this unsettled him so though was perhaps ironic, for whilst Renly knew he would _need_ a son and heir, he'd always quite fancied a daughter to dote upon and buy expensive jewels for.

It was a pleasant day and yet by that evening, Renly didn't think he could bare not to bathe any longer, and so as casually as he could, he asked if any of his men would care to bathe also.

Many of them agreed, a fact that Renly was very thankful for and not only because they would prevent Oberyn from catching him alone. Renly was quite aware some of them had not washed since Skyreach and just contemplating that made Renly squirm. It was be unpleasant by any standards and yet in Dorne, when they'd been travelling and sweating all day every day, it was virtually disgusting. Even the thought of sharing water with them made Renly's skin crawl slightly and yet he supposed it was better than risking bathing alone and playing into the prince's hands.

Most seemed as bewildered as he had been when they saw that the baths were public and many of the younger squires seemed a little sceptical and embarrassed even at the thought of stripping off all of their clothes in full view of everybody else.

It was a surprisingly jovial affair though and Renly had to try desperately not to laugh alongside the other men as they watched the younger boys try in vain to shield their not yet developed bodies from view. Some of the men were particularly cruel, one of the older men asking his squire whether he was finding Dorne particularly chilly or whether he'd just forgotten to grow a pair. It was all said with an impressively straight face and the boy in question blushed like a maiden as he all but hurled himself into the water and out of the scrutinising gazes of the other men.

Renly didn't feel at all self-conscious of his own body and yet he had to admit that he found it rather an odd experience. He'd rarely had the opportunity to look upon a man's naked form, and aside from Loras' body, which he undoubtedly knew better than his own, and his glimpses of Prince Oberyn the other day, Renly couldn't really remember when he'd seen a man completely bare for any length of time. He'd had no brothers at Storm's End to grow up with nor a father, and if he'd ever seen Stannis naked, he'd thankfully long forgotten it.

He tried to choose the cleaner looking ones to share a bath with and tried not to think about the possibility of any of them being filthy with grime and dirt he couldn't see.

It wasn't as awkward as it might have been and yet he couldn't help sneaking curious glances at them now and again and comparing their bodies to his own. With their broad chests and thick powerful legs, they looked a lot more like him than Loras did. In fact, Renly suspected Loras would have looked quite out of place here. Most of the men he was surrounded by had at least some hair on their chest and a little on their stomach, both of which Loras at fourteen had none of. And whilst the hair Loras did have between his legs was rather silky almost, the men around him had thick wiry hair that continued down their thighs and looked coarse to the touch.

The more he looked in fact, the more he realised that Loras was probably less fully grown than he had previously thought. He'd probably have fitted in better with the group of squires in the bath across from him with their coltish legs and smooth skin.

He tried to stop looking after that, painfully aware that thoughts of Loras combined with the naked men beside him were making him a little uncomfortable. His first thought was to cross his legs and yet he forced himself to merely lean over and reach for the soap, creating such a lather in the water that any arousal of his would be quite unnoticeable.

It felt quite odd to have such stirrings when Loras wasn't here and the more he found he was unable to stop stealing surreptitious glances, the more ashamed he became. He could only imagine how Loras would feel if he knew Renly was not only sharing a bath with men who weren't him, but that he was also finding the experience rather arousing.

And so instead of watching Ser Guyard massage the soap into his chest or Ser Andrew scrub at his thighs, he tried to remember when he'd first got hair on his own chest. He supposed he had been what they called an early bloomer and he remembered Penrose being surprised when he'd needed to start using a razor just shy of fourteen. He supposed though that part of it was simply due to his hair being so dark that even a little amount of it showed up more than he would like, whereas even the hair on Loras' arms and legs was rather fair.

He returned to his chambers alone after he was done and couldn't help pushing a still damp hand down his breeches as soon as he was safely inside. He tried not to think of anything he'd seen in the baths though and instead pictured Loras as best as he could, imagining desperately that it was Loras' hand around him instead of his own.

He came quickly, collapsing heavily onto his bed. He felt better after that and yet quite exhausted, having no energy to do anything more than stretch out on the silken sheets and doze for the rest of the evening.

He did have the energy though to write to Loras that night, a most indecent letter that he ought not to have sent if he had any propriety. He didn't mention the baths or the way his men's naked forms had aroused him so. But he did talk rather too much perhaps about what he'd done alone in his chambers that night and what he was planning to do to Loras when he got back.

He didn't sign his name to that particular letter; whilst he and Loras weren't particularly secretive in their usual correspondence, he could only imagine what might happen if that letter were intercepted. He could just picture lord Mace opening it and promptly bursting with rage, furious that he'd send his son to squire for such a man. And whilst Renly not putting his name to it wouldn't hide the fact that Loras was a little perverse in his affections, for most of the things Renly proposed to do to him would be quite impossible for a woman, he supposed that it would at least prevent anyone from being enlightened about the two of them together.

….............................................

A week and a half passed though without him hearing anything back from Loras and Renly was beginning to wonder whether he'd inadvertently picked the slowest raven in Dorne. He was just debating between going to the ravenry to check once more and turning in early for the night though when there was a loud knock on his door, too sharp and commanding to be a servant.

His fist instinct was to ignore it and pretend he'd already gone to bed and yet after a few moments his curiosity got the better of him. He imagined it was unlikely after all that it would be the Dornish prince rather than say one of his men or someone else entirely.

It turned out perhaps that he should have stuck with his first instincts though for upon opening the door his eyes met just the very black ones he'd been hoping to avoid.

“Prince Oberyn.” He said warily.

“Lord Renly.” His eyes glinted with amusement, no doubt at the fact that Renly had opened the door as little as he had to.

Renly took a deep breath and opened the door a little wider. “What can I do for you?” he asked, aware he was being uncharacteristically brash.

“I have something I wish to discuss with you.” Prince Oberyn said smoothly.

Renly frowned. He couldn't really refuse the request, after all this was supposed to be a diplomatic visit for Robert really. There was no way though that he was going to let the viper into his bed chamber. “Of course.” he said as pleasantly as he could manage. “But why don't we take this elsewhere. Somewhere more appropriate perhaps?”

“As you wish.” Oberyn raised an amused eyebrow and led him down the corridor.

Renly had a horrible feeling that the prince was going to lead him to his own chambers or somewhere equally as unsuitable and so he was surprised when Oberyn opened the door to the solar and stepped back to let him pass.

The room was empty though and it didn't soothe Renly's nerves overmuch.

“I shall have my squire send us up some wine.” Oberyn remarked from the doorway.

The horror must have shown on Renly's face for he laughed. “Don't fret little lordling. Not your lover of years past." He grinned wickedly. "You'll be relieved to know that the Bastard of Godsgrace is in fact _at_ Godsgrace,” He smirked. “I dare say the challenge you present is too much for him. He prefers a more _willing_ partner.”

Renly grimaced, quite sure that the prince was suggesting that Renly certainly didn't present too much off a challenge for him. He took a deep breath as Oberyn had words with a young boy outside, presumably his new squire.

He didn't take long to bring the wine and Renly accepted a cup uneasily, quite aware of the Prince's reputation.

Oberyn let out a chuckle. “I don't wish to poison you.” His thin lips twisted upwards. “I save that weapon for my enemies.”

Renly raised an eyebrow. “And what does that make me then?”

Oberyn smirked. “That remains to be seen.”

Renly sighed and put down his cup. This exchanging of wits was making him uneasy and he rather desired to go to bed. “Let us not waste time. What can I do for you my prince?”

Oberyn put his cup down too and leant in a little closer. “Are you not the master of laws now?”

Renly exhaled loudly. He had a inkling where the prince was going with this. “Yes.”

“And is your job not to oversee the king's justice?”

Renly hesitated, knowing now he was being cornered. “Yes.” He sighed and there was a long pause. “You wish to talk about Princess Elia?” He asked eventually.

“And Priness Rhaenys and Prince Aegon.” There was nothing so amusing about his smile now. "The murders that paved the way for your brother to take the throne."

Renly winced. He wasn't sure that Robert would have approved the murders had he been present at the sacking of Kings Landing and yet he wasn't quite so sure he wouldn't have done either. After all, one of Robert's favourite pasttimes was beguiling Stannis for the Targaryens that he hadn't managed to kill. He was surprised though at Oberyn being bold enough to point out the fact that it was their murders that had led to Robert's crowning. He sat up straight. “Go on then. I'm listening.”

“I want justice.”

Renly sighed. “I am aware of that. Any specifics perhaps?”

“You're the master of laws. Why don't you enlighten me as to how Dorne might get justice.”

Renly exhaled loudly, going through the options in his head. “Would you like me to arrange a meeting with you with Tywin Lannister to discuss the possibility of putting Ser Gregor Clegane to trial?”

Oberyn snorted. “And who gave the mountain his orders little lordling?”

Renly raised an eyebrow. “You wish to accuse Tywin Lannister.” He sighed. “And what shall the king say when I tell him that you lay such a crime at his goodfather's feet?”

“It was you who mentioned lord Tywin and not I?” Oberyn reminded him coolly.

“But that's what you want isn't it?” Renly drank deeply from his glass. “And what do you want me to propose to that?" He carried on when Oberyn said nothing. "Let us go through the this logically shall we? Let us say that Robert, who will not do this I promise you, agrees to trial lord Tywn in the first place.”

Oberyn's lips twitched but he remained silent.

“He has a choice as I'm sure you're well aware. Trial by judges and trial by combat. Both of which will not find him guilty.”

Oberyn's eyes narrowed. “And what makes you say that little lordling?”

Renly raised an eyebrow. “Let us say he chooses trial by judges. _You have no evidence._ ”

“Evidence can be found.”

“No evidence will be found.” Renly insisted. “I can promise you that.” Prince Oberyn tried to interject but Renly continued. “And even if it was. No judge is going to proclaim Tywin Lannister guilty.”

“There is trial by combat.” Oberyn commented, his eyes narrowing.

Renly sighed. “Then I would wish you luck against Jaime Lannister.” He raised an eyebrow. “Not that any of this is at all relevant because as you say, you haven't even mentioned trialling lord Tywin. And even if you had, Robert would not have it.”

Oberyn's lips pursed. “I can see you shall be no help to me. Are you to admit then that there is no justice in the realm?”

Renly shrugged. “I serve at the king's pleasure. It is a hard truth perhaps but justice is what he makes it to be.”

Oberyn's eyes flashed for a moment. “I see we arrive at an impasse then.”

“So we do.” Renly drained his glass and stood up. “I will talk to Robert for you about trialling Ser Gregor Clegane.”

It wasn't what Oberyn was after and yet Renly supposed it was the best he could do. He did feel for Princess Elia and her children and yet what good would justice do them, he wondered. It was a mystery to him why men seemed to spend their lives trying to avenge those they loved. When all was said and done, justice could bring no-one back from the grave and Renly didn't see the point in tearing apart the realm in order to exact justice for a princess fifteen years dead. Oberyn's claims would have the Westerlands up in arms and Renly had to wonder even whether the cautious prince Doran would approve of such a volatile course of action.

“As you wish.” Prince Oberyn's temper was under control again and Renly got the feeling that he was merely biding his time. This was perhaps confirmed when Oberyn stood and laughed darkly. “Before you go. I have something for you.” He drew a letter out of the folds of his silks. “From the maester.”

Renly took it, letting out a sigh of relief when he saw the rose seal unbroken. "You have my thanks." He said warily.

Prince Oberyn just smirked and swept passed him, pausing at the door, his thin lips twisting upwards into a smile once more. “Let me know when you become bored of exchanging letters lord Renly.” And with that he was gone.

Renly just sighed and sat back down as he exited, running his fingers over the seal for a few moments until he was sure Oberyn would have disappeared down the corridor.

He opened it as soon as he was back in his room, settling down on his bed and trying to block out all thoughts of the Dornish prince.

_Dear Renly,_ Loras started. _I am assuming that last letter was from you. Or at least I hope that last letter was from you. I should be quite worried otherwise. I don't like to imagine that might be someone other than you planning on dishonouring me in such a fashion. Assuming you did write it, I really must praise you on your craftsmanship and your attention to detail. I dare say that you ought to consider giving up being master of laws altogether and instead devote your time to writing a book just like that one you are so fond of back at Storm's End. I for one would surely read it and we could send a complimentary copy to Stannis._

Renly laughed slightly, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He supposed it had been rather graphic. Despite Loras' teasing though, he was rather sure that Loras would have enjoyed reading his letter. It certainly didn't take much after all to send Loras' pulse racing.

_My only complaint is that you didn't put a warning on the envelope and that poor unsuspecting me happened to open it whilst in Margaery's rooms. I can tell you that I certainly didn't remain in her rooms much longer. I'd go into more detail but I know how fond you are of that imagination of yours. I am sad to admit too that I don't share your talent for such elegant prose either. As such I shall be waiting for you in Kings Landing when you come back. I dare say though that your plan to keep things quiet in Kings Landing might not be so successful if you actually do all of those things you say you plan to all in one night. I would also mention the fact that I probably wouldn't ever be able to walk properly again either afterwards but that seems like a reasonable sacrifice to make._

Renly laughed as he read that. He probably had been a little over optimistic with his plans. No doubt when he did finally get Loras alone, he'd probably be so relieved to see him that he'd do little more than clutch Loras to him and tell him that he wasn't ever allowed to return to Highgarden. There'd surely be time afterwards to push him up against the wall and fulfil his promises.

_On the subject of such indecency, a quite terrible thing happened this morning,_ Loras told him after that. _Margaery and I had been tasked with fetching Garlan by our father and so quite logically we went to his chambers and upon reaching them we of course knocked. We are still quite sure that we heard Garlan to tell us to come in but this cannot have been the case I suppose. I will say nothing further save for that I can safely say Margaery and I have seen more of Garlan than we ever would have liked and that I wish he and Leonette had enough wits between them to think to lock the door._

_Leonette was mortified and she can no longer look either me or Margaery in the eye without blushing. I suppose I can sympathise. I don't think I could bear to speak to any of my family again if they were to witness some of what I do with you. I imagine that Garlan would find the fact that I am quite willing to get on my hands and knees for you quite beyond value. I can only dread to think of the sort of japes he would make._

Renly had to laugh at that too, for as much as the thought of Garlan finding out by any means about what he and Loras did horrified him, he had to admit that Garlan's teasing of Loras would no doubt be amusing. Loras could do with being put in his place every now and again and Garlan seemed to have no problem doing that. What did continue to surprise Renly though was that Loras let him put him in such undignified places in the first place. It warmed him slightly to think that he probably wouldn't have allowed that from anyone else.

Despite Loras' letter, he had difficulty sleeping that night and no matter how much he tried to focus instead on Loras' words, Oberyn's words echoed in his head long after he had blown out the candles. _Let me know when you get tired of exchanging letters lord Renly_ he had whispered, his voice full of promise and laced with malice. He liked to think that Loras' words would always be enough and yet the glint in the prince's eyes told him Oberyn disagreed.

The morrow proved him right for Oberyn seemed intent on making the rest of his stay in Dorne miserable Renly thought. He wasn't overly sure that the prince was _purposefully_ following him but it truly did seem that whichever corridor he went down, Oberyn would be at the other end, his soft laughter echoing ominously as Renly merely nodded his greetings and quickly hurried along, Ser Guyard and Ser Andrew following behind quite oblivious to all the tension.

He really was like a snake, Renly thought. A viper no less, lurking in the grass and waiting for him, poised and ready to strike. Renly wasn't sure though what Oberyn really wanted, whether he just enjoyed riling him up or whether there was actually anything more sinister behind it, either way though he didn't really want to find out.

He took each day as it came, mentally ticking off each day that passed as the week he had remaining in Dorne slowly dragged on. He had to admit he was more than a little thankful when it came to the last evening of his visit and his men were packing up and everyone readying to leave. They were to leave late this evening, to try and get as much travelling as possible done in the cool of the night rather than under the hot desert sun.

He only had one more bridge to cross and that was saying his goodbyes to the Martells. For this the captain of the guards kindly showed him to the family's private apartments, leading him to a very pleasantly furnished round room which was hung with silks and other such luxurious fabrics. If it wasn't for Prince Oberyn and the heat, Renly thought he would have been quite happy residing at Sunspear with its shady courtyards and exotic fruits.

Princess Arianne seemed a little disappointed as he bid her goodbye. She kissed his cheeks again and pushed up against his chest, soft and inviting, or at least she would have been had Renly been more like other men. She was undeniably an attractive girl and yet Renly hoped that whoever did end up marrying her was rather strong willed, he'd have to be to keep this Dornish princess in check.

Renly felt rather a bit sorry for her as they parted, for he doubted she understood quite why he was so insistent on ignoring all her advances. He doubted though that she was the sort of girl to be discouraged by this though and he imagined that she would have moved on to her next victim by the time Renly and his party were barely out of the Sunspear gates.

“It's been an honour to visit.” he insisted, speaking to both the princess and her uncle. He supposed it was a half truth really and that it hadn't been too bad all things considered. He'd slowly adjusted to the searing Dornish heat and now he found that he could even sit outside without quite feeling like he was going to melt any moment. And aside for one poor young squire who was suffering from something the Dornish Maester called _a prickly heat rash_ and a knight from Mistwood who had burnt the tops of his ears so badly they had blistered, the men too seemed to have enjoyed themselves. At the very least, Renly would no doubt amuse everyone at Kings Landing by being almost as brown as a Dothraki.

“It's been a pleasure.” Arianne laughed. “I do hope you shall come again?”

Renly laughed. “Perhaps.” He smiled. “Of course you shall always be welcome at Storm's End too.” Which was true he guessed, seeing as he was unlikely to be there anyway. For all he cared Princess Arianne could come and live at Storm's End if she so desired as long as she was entirely Penrose's problem to deal with. He imagined that even the stubborn Penrose would have his work cut out with her, and he could just see it now, Arianne swanning about in her thin silks and shocking every stormlord and his wife who happened to pass through. He supposed that would be how it would be if he were actually to marry the princess, a rather terrifying thought now he'd met her.

The offer to come and visit seemed to please her though and she offered Renly her arm as she made to walk him down to the doors where his companions were probably almost ready to leave.

They had just reached the door when a silky voice cut through the air though. “Sweetling,” Oberyn said pleasantly, “Would you give us a moment. I have a matter I wish to discuss privately with lord Renly."

She looked a little confused but she perhaps assumed they were to discuss her so she merely smiled sultrily up at them both of them before taking her leave, her gown flying out behind her as she pushed open the door.

Renly sighed and watched her leave. He never thought he'd be so disappointed to see her disappear. He turned to face the prince though and waited. As far as he was concerned, he would humour the prince for a few moments with a little conversation and then take his leave as quickly as possible. He intended to make it quickly through the Prince's Pass this time, and stop only when necessary until he got to Kings Landing and Loras. He was even considering bypassing his planned stop at Storm's End and probably would have done if it wouldn't have created more hassle for him in the long run. As it was thus, he was in no mood to stand around and verbally spar with this sharp tongued Dornish prince.

Oberyn laughed darkly. “Arianne quite took a fancy to you you know.”

Renly shrugged. “I had been told Prince Doran had someone rather older in mind.” He thought back to the likes of the suitors Varys told him Doran had been publicly entertaining for his daughter. Ben Beesbury, Walder Frey and other such disgustingly old men. It was no wonder that Arianne preferred him.

“I don't claim to know my brother's plans for his daughter.” Oberyn shut the door softly and Renly couldn't help but take a step backwards. He hadn't been counting on Oberyn being quite as bold as that. It unnerved him more than he'd have liked to admit.

There was a tense silence. “I think I'll take my leave now?” Renly stammered. It wasn't intended as a question and yet it came out very much as one.

Oberyn laughed but didn't move from the door. “In time little lordling." He gave a small dry smile. "I promise you that to stay though would be far more pleasurable.”

Renly gulped. “Perhaps.” He stood to leave. “But I dare say I shall take my leave anyhow.” He knew he sounded less confident than he would have liked and yet he tried to stand tall anyway.

He was half way to his feet when he felt Oberyn's hand wrap round his wrist, his grip unsettlingly strong. “I'm not a patient man lord Renly" he said silkily, his eyes meeting Renly's own. "And I promise you my patience is quite worn through.”

Renly took a deep breath and another step backwards. “I'm sure I don't understand what you mean.”

Oberyn's grasp tightened on his wrist. “Perhaps I could show you.” He whispered, his voice full of poison as his other hand found the small of Renly's back, pinning him in place.

Renly grimaced, frozen to the spot. “What are you going to do?” He forced himself to laugh. “Force me?” Surely Oberyn must have realised he'd have no chance of physically overpowering him. He was a good head taller than him as he was with most men and yet Renly found himself doubting his own words. Strength wasn't the preferred weapon of this dornish snake after all.

“I don't think that will be quite necessary.” Oberyn smirked dryly, trailing a hand now down Renly's stomach and sending quite involuntary shivers down Renly's spine. “After all,” he whispered. “I believe that my only competition is little more than a child." He laughed under his breath. "I dare say your little rose didn't even know what he ought to desire until you showed him."

Renly scowled and the mention of Loras and wrenched his arm away forcefully, his skin burning from Oberyn's tight grasp.

“I see how it is,” Oberyn's eyes filled with dark amusement. “Loyalty is it?” He laughed ruefully and raised an eyebrow. “Admiral, but quite unnecessary I think.”

Renly narrowed his eyes. "And why would that be unnecessary?" he shot back, the bitterness in his voice taking even himself by surprise.

“Going to wed him are you? Give him your cloak?” Oberyn laughed mockingly and moved his hand to the front of Renly's breeches.

Renly flinched violently and yet he couldn't help the fact that he stiffened rather quickly under Oberyn's palm, his breath coming in shudders.

And this must have amused Oberyn even further for he raised an eyebrow, his eyes glinting. “Impressive.” he smirked, sliding his hand along Renly's length through his breeches. “And he takes all of you does he?” He laughed at Renly's flustered angry face. “My admiration for that little rose of yours has grown threefold.”

Renly cringed at that and roughly tried to push Oberyn's hands off him. It was an odd feeling he thought desperately, being so aroused in body and yet fuming inside, and he didn't like it one bit. He just wanted to leave and forget that the dornish prince even existed.

Oberyn laughed once more. “You just need to change your way of thinking my little lordling. Don't consider it a betrayal, but an _education._ ” He smirked. “I dare say that little plaything of yours might even benefit too." He licked his lips with his barbed tongue. “Think lord Renly, of the pleasure you could learn to give him.”

Despite himself, Renly found himself thinking about it. He could imagine the sort of noises Loras might make and that made his pulse race. But even through his desire he could see too the anger and hurt on Loras' face afterwards when he asked where he'd learnt such things, why he'd have ever thought to let someone else take him into their bed. He'd be furious, Renly knew, and yet that wasn't what stopped him. He could deal with Loras' anger but the thought of actually _hurting_ Loras made his heart feel like it was about to break in two. He already felt guilty for letting it go this far.

Trembling, he wrenched his arm away and stepped backwards, turning on his heel and making for the now unprotected door. He couldn't stop his hands balling up into fists and he knew now that if Oberyn followed him, he'd probably punch him. He probably wouldn't even regret it either.

He was surprised thus when he reached the door unhindered. Warily, he glanced over his shoulder as he tugged the door open.

Oberyn was standing by the table, leaning easily against it and with more amusement on his face than ought to have been there. He looked Renly up and down once more before to Renly's horror, beginning to laugh, his lustrous black hair shining in the candlelight.

“Give my respects to Ser Loras Tyrell.” He smirked. “I see he's got you wrapped around his little finger like a blushing maiden.” And with that he sidled past Renly and out into the empty hallway, leaving Renly quite alone in the room.


	67. Chapter 67

Renly wasted no time in hastening his departure, desperate to leave Prince Oberyn and anything to do with him behind as quickly as possible. Thankfully, by the time he'd escaped from the Martell's private quarters his men were already packed up and ready to go, the wagons loaded and even his horse saddled up.

Renly mounted without further delay and gave the orders to leave, sighing as he heard his words repeated down the column of men behind him. He didn't think he'd ever been in more of a hurry to leave a place than he was now. He was sick of the heat, he was sick of the sand, but most of all he was sick of Oberyn Martell, and he imagined that if he'd had to bear one more barbed remark or veiled innuendo from the man, then he might have easily gone mad, or worse perhaps, actually given into the sordid temptation the man had posed. He shut his eyes and tried not to think about the way the viper's hands had roamed over him, grasping at his wrists and pushing at his back, exciting him through the thin fabric of his breeches. He supposed he ought to have expected such overt advances from a man like Oberyn Martell and yet he couldn't help feel a little shocked at the prince's daring. He was Robert's brother, fourth in line to the throne and a lord of the small council, surely an _unwise_ target at the very least.

Or perhaps not so unwise after all though, Renly found himself thinking as his horse swayed underneath him and they passed through the Sunspear gates. He'd never talk and Prince Oberyn probably knew that as well as he did. He could just imagine it now, confessing to Robert that the more volatile prince of Sunspear had tried to force him to go to bed with him. Questions would be asked that Renly couldn't afford to be asked and just the thought of Robert knowing of Oberyn's hand on his breeches or his presence next to him in the baths made him cringe in embarrassment.

Confessing the turn of events to Loras would be the most he would do, and even that Renly wasn't so sure of. Loras would be furious on his behalf, he imagined, and yet that wasn't what made him hesitate. Renly would be thoroughly ashamed to admit that the prince had succeeded in arousing him even a little and he didn't know how Loras would take that. It was possible, Renly thought, that he'd be a little disappointed in him and if there was one thing Renly couldn't bear, it was Loras being disappointed in him.

He sighed. He supposed though that he would cross that bridge when he came to it. Loras could have been downright furious with him and Renly still would have been desperate to see him more than anything or anyone in the world. 

Running a hand through his hair, Renly kicked his horse on a little harder. Loras was waiting for him in Kings Landing and as such he was going to get there as quickly as possibly even if it killed him. He could only be glad he had taken the advice of those at Sunspear and decided to travel by night. It was an odd experience riding through the darkness, Renly found, but they covered a lot more ground more quickly and it was infinitely more pleasant. Though the desert was still irritatingly sandy and the horses' hooves still sunk deep with each step, it was no longer hot and they even found themselves needing to retrieve their cloaks from the wagons as the moon rose.

Renly's optimism lasted only two days though. By the third day, he was feeling dirty and hot again despite travelling by night, and perhaps worst of all, the itching had started again, worse than ever before. Now Renly sorely regretted having started shaving again whilst in Dorne. He would have been hot during his stay, but he thought nothing could compare to how unbearable the incessant need he had now to scratch his jaw was now.

To top things off, the Dornish guide was ranting again, and one of the wagon wheels had got stuck in a sandy ditch as they rejoined the road. All in all, Renly couldn't help but sigh in defeat. He had hoped desperately that the return journey would be better and yet now he wasn't quite so hopeful.

................

It had been an unspeakable relief to see Nightsong rising up at the end of the Prince's Pass, and yet it was no comparison to the relief Renly felt when they caught their first glimpse of Storm's End, glowing red almost as the setting sun lit it up from the west. He remembered vaguely how he had briefly toyed with the idea of bypassing his return home and heading instead straight to King's Landing and Loras, but now no idea could have been less appealing, even if the thought of keeping Loras waiting made a painful lump come to his throat. Even so, Renly wanted his own chambers with his view over the sea and the cool breeze that came rolling in off the waves coming in through the window, even if it was only for the night. 

He was just wondering absent-mindedly how Penrose was holding up without him when Ser Guyard's voice brought him out of his thoughts. Yawning, Renly spun round in the saddle to speak to him properly,  

“Are we to rest for the night in Bronzegate or continue on my lord?” Ser Guyard seemed weary like everyone else and yet he was surprisingly chirpy. 

The sensible part of Renly told him that staying the night in Bronzegate was probably the sensible idea, it was already late and they were all exhausted, but more than anything Renly just wanted to go home “We'll press on.” he decided, and if anything many of the men looked relieved. Renly doubted they wanted to endure another night in some inn with scratchy sheets and less than wonderful food either.

And so they pressed on, and whilst some of the squires were almost falling asleep off their horses by the time they arrived, Renly found he didn't regret his decision in the slightest. Whether it was the relief at being home or the cool sea breeze rolling off Shiprbreaker bay, Renly didn't feel a bit tired. The gates seemed to him like old friends welcoming him home with open arms and he almost leapt for joy like a child when he saw the familiar figure standing in the courtyard, awaiting their arrival dutifully despite the hour.

Renly dismounted as soon as it was proper and strode over to him. “Penrose.” he laughed, embracing him fondly. “You're still up?”

“Evidently.” The older man laughed and glanced pointedly at Renly's beard. “You're looking different.”

Renly sighed, laughing and rubbing a hand over his jaw. “Let's just say the Prince's Pass wasn't all that too convenient for getting a good shave shall we.”

Penrose chuckled. “You wear it well. Very distinguished for a lord of the small council such as yourself.”

Renly grinned. “Even so, by tomorrow morning I hope to be back to my usual dashing self.”

“Ever humble aren't you my lord.” Penrose smiled fondly despite his admonishing words. “And you're in a cheery mood for so late an hour. Dorne can't have been that bad can it?”

“You have no idea.” Renly laughed and exhaled deeply. “Now come, walk with me. I expect we have much to talk about. Bore me with the dull affairs of Storm's End!”

Penrose raised an eyebrow. “You're sure you don't want to leave it until morning?”

Renly shrugged. “Only if you do. Ideally though, I want to leave as soon as possible.”

Penrose smiled wryly. “In a rush to get to Kings Landing are we?” He sighed. “I can't imagine why.”

Renly didn't know if Penrose somehow knew Loras was going to be there or if he was in fact merely referencing how foul the capital was and so to be on the safe side he just laughed. “I want to leave tomorrow.” he told him, his feet carrying him up the familiar steps without him even having to think about where he was going. 

Penrose raised an eyebrow. “Tomorrow you say?" He laughed. "Which coming from you means I should take it that you're leaving by the end of the week at the earliest.”

Renly rolled his eyes. He didn't know why he stood for Penrose treating ever like the child he hadn't been for years now, and yet he supposed he wouldn't have it any other way. 

They walked to a one of Renly's favourite rooms in the castle, a round one that overlooked the sea that had a large oak table by the window. This had been where Renly should have managed the affairs of Storm's End and held meetings, more often than not he'd left it to Penrose anyway, now though the room was officially Penrose's. They both took seats at the table, and Renly was ashamed to admit that the room was rather more organised than when it had been his.

“So let's get all the boring stuff out of the way then shall we” Renly suggested, preparing himself for the tedium of who had been assigned which position, and how much money had been spent in Renly's absence.

“Yes my lord” Penrose nodded, duly listing all of the appointments he had made and informing Renly of the accounts of Storm's End. Renly noted rather shamefully too that Penrose had spent much less in half a year than he would have done in a month. Perhaps he was frivolous after all, Renly pondered. Likely though, it was just that he had a lot more fun than Penrose did. 

“I suspect though Renly that you're more interested in who is to be accompanying you to King's Landing?” Penrose put down the books and eyed Renly fondly..

Renly nodded, he supposed he would have to take about thirty or forty men to the capital as his personal guard as was fitting of a lord of his station. "I'll probably take most of the people I took to Dorne." Renly told him. "“Though I guess I need a good ten or fifteen men on top of that.

Penrose thought for a moment before duly listing off the men he had found to be in Renly's personal guard. Most of them were men Renly knew by name and Renly grinned. It was so like Penrose to have sorted out even the things Renly hadn't thought to ask him to sort out. 

“Also Renly," Penrose paused and Renly could see he was choosing his words carefully. "Lord Grandison has expressed an interest in you taking Ser Narbert with you did to Dorne. And even though I know you're not overly fond, it wouldn't be a bad choice my lord” He sighed. "And I dare say he's never forgotten your refusal to dismiss Loras over that rather unfortunate incident in the training yard."

Renly's grin faded rather quickly at that. Grandison had been a nuisance in Dorne, even without Loras to stir things up and yet Penrose was right when he said he would be a fair addition to his guard. He sighed. "Go on then. Humour him."

Penrose smiled. “A wise choice. And you'll need someone too Renly  to run your household too. I'd suggest you take Brella with you. She started off in the capital, and-” He paused, looking innocently up at Renly with the beginnings of a smirk on his face“-and you'll need someone who turns a blind eye to well.., _odd_ goings on." He laughed. "and a deaf ear too if my experience at Kings Landing is anything to go by.”

Renly grimaced at Penrose' not so subtle jape and promptly turned an unsightly shade of bright pink. He was well aware though that their were bawling babes who were quieter than Loras was between the sheets. He sighed deeply as he thought of Loras. It had been almost three weeks now since he'd heard anything from him, not that he had really expected to hear anything after leaving Sunspear. He expected Penrose would have heard tell of what he was up to and yet he dithered, taking a good few moments to swallow his pride. 

 “Penrose," he started hesitantly. "You haven't happened to hear any news of Loras have you?” 

Penrose laughed “I was wondering how long it would be before you asked me that." He smiled. " I dare imagine that you know more than I do. But I have been told he's been apparently winning tourneys left, right and centre." He rubbed his beard. "If my memory serves me well, I think he was the victor at both Longtable and Harvest Hall, but at Brightwater, which was a much bigger affair I believe, he lost in the final tilt.” He chuckled. “To Jaime Lannister again.”

Renly grinned. “So you have heard rather a lot of news of him then!”

“It would be hard not to.” Penrose rolled his eyes “That squire of yours seems to be the Kingdom's new favourite knight from what I hear. He's won almost everything he's put his hand to, and with the exception of the Kingslayer I think, I'm told he's unhorsed every single member of the bloody Kingsguard." He smiled. "Even Barristan the Bold.”

Renly laughed “I'm stunned”

“Don't lie my lord, we all knew he was going to be good.” Penrose smiled dryly “And the small folk have gone half mad for him I'm told. I can't remember quite what for, but they've already given him a name. The _Knight of Primroses_ they call him” He scratched his head. “Or was it simply the _knight of Flowers_ perhaps.” He laughed. “And before you ask me Renly, no, I've no idea what mummer's fool came up with that name.”

Renly grinned “I'll have to ask him and let you know” He thought the name quite suited Loras actually. Aside from when Renly had insisted upon making him wear black and yellow with a stag on every pocket, Renly couldn't remember ever seeing Loras without a rose embroidered on his clothes somewhere or another. He'd even had roses etched onto his saddle and pressed into the leather of his bridle.

“Indeed.” Penrose smiled wryly. “You do that.”

Renly grinned. He'd put that on his list of things to do when he got to Kings Landing. He imagined though that asking about even such curious matters as this would have to wait until he'd had his way at least a few times with Loras.

Penrose ran a hand through his beard, much more impressive than Renly's own. “And speaking of Loras, have you thought any more about replacing him? You mentioned Alyn Estermont in your last letter?”

Renly nodded. “Did you find out how old he is for me?”

“He's just shy of thirteen I believe.”

Renly frowned. Loras had been ten when he'd arrived at Storm's End. “Is that too old for a squire Penrose?”

Penrose shrugged. “Not partcularly. He ccould still be knighted by say seventeen, eighteen.

Renly sighed. “But he's only a year and a half younger than Loras and Loras is knighted now.”

Penrose raised an eyebrow. “And Loras will most likely be the youngest knight in each tourney he rides in for a good few years yet.” He laughed. “And I dare say you'd do better not to bother finding yourself another squire if you're going to insist on comparing him to Loras. I dare say Alyn will do just fine.”

“Alright.” Renly stood up, yawning as he stretched. “Could you send a raven to Greenstone for me then and have him sent up to Kings Landing if his father is willing.”

“I dare say he will be.” Penrose smiled and stood also. “Oh and Renly,” Penrose stopped him as he went out the door. “One more thing before you turn in for the night.”

Renly grinned. “Yes?”

“I had a knight come yesterday,” He laughed dryly. “One of your favourite people. wouldn't leave until you'd received him.” He raised an eyebrow. “I dare say he too wants to accompany you to kings Landing.”

Renly groaned. “One of my favourite people you say?” He knew Penrose too well to doubt that this meant it was quite the opposite. “I'm not letting Red Ronnet join my personal guard if that's what your suggesting?” he said hurriedly.

Penrose laughed. “I didn't say a word. It's your choice who you take with you, not mine.”

Renly sighed and bid him good night. There was nothing he'd rather not do than have Red Ronnet accompany him to Kings Landing. He was as arrogant as they came and he would already have to put up with Grandison. It would be hard to say no though, Renly thought. Ser Ronnet Connington might have been insufferable but he was also rather skilled. Technically, he would be a very good addition to his guard. He too though didn't get on with Loras, and Renly had wished to keep the number of personal feuds between his guards and Loras to a minimum. He would need them to keep quiet after all if any of them noticed that Loras was coming and going rather too often from his chambers. 

It was a problem he didn't have an answer to and yet he supposed he would deal with it in the morning. He would have to receive the knight at least. That much was certain. He would be damned though if he let the young griffin delay his departure. Loras would never forgive him if when upon asking why he had taken so long, Renly had to reply that he'd been entertaining Red Ronnet.

His chambers were dark when he entered and Renly was a little miffed the servants hadn't thought to at least light a candle for him. Penrose had waited up for hours for him and yet the servants who were usually so thoughtful hadn't even bothered to leave a light burning. He knew his way to the bed though and after stripping his clothes off and leaving them in an undignified pile on the floor, climbed in without further ado, quite happy to get under proper covers for once without feeling like he might die of heat.

He had just laid his head down on the pillow when he felt something move next to him. He couldn't help but yell rather loudly, quickly realising with terror it was _someone_ rather than _something_ as a strong hand grabbed at his wrists. His first thought was that it was Prince Obern come to haunt him and he leapt out of the bed, wished desperately that Ser Guyard and Ser Andrew had escorted him to his bedchamber.

Driven partly by terror, he lashed out with a fist. His hand was caught roughly though by someone else's.

And yet before Renly could shake him his attacker off the grip had softened and there was a familiar voice at his ear. And it sounded almost as anxious as Renly felt. "Shh Renly." it whispered. “It's me. It's only me. I didn't mean to frighten you.”

“ _Loras??_ ” Renly unclenched his fists and stared blankly into the darkness. “What on earth are you doing here?” he whispered. “You're in Kings Landing.” 

“Visiting Penrose.” Loras told him flatly and then he laughed. “What do you think I was doing Renly? I was was waiting for you of course.” 

“But you're in Kings Landing,” Renly repeated stupidly. “You told me you were going to be in Kings Landing?” He was quite sure that his imagination was playing tricks on him and yet the hand around his wrist felt real enough. Tentatively, he reached out into the blackness of his room, his fingers soft cotton and then the warmth of silky skin.

Loras laughed and took both Renly's hands, interlacing his fingers with Renly's own. “Didn't Penrose tell you I was here?”

“No.” Renly shook his head, feeling a little unsteady all of a sudden. “Well maybe actually. He did tell me that one of my favourite people was here to see me but I assumed he was talking about Red Ronnet.”

“You thought of Red Ronnet before me.” He laughed, turning over Renly's palms in the dark and pressing a kiss to each one. “Forgive me if I don't leap for joy.”

Renly laughed shakily. “I thought he was being sarcastic you see.”

Loras laughed. “Well are you pleased to see me or not?”

“ _Pleased to see yo_ u?” Renly stumbled forwards and pulled him into his arms. “There's no words for how pleased I am to see you.” He sighed deeply, feeling much more stable now that Loras was all but propping him up, his strong arms around Renly's chest. "If you knew how much I've missed you."

He felt Loras smiled against his chest. "I've missed you too." And suddenly his voice was anxious again. "And truly Renly, I didn't mean to frighten you. I thought you might find it well... _arousing_ I guess." Renly could feel colour rising to Loras' cheeks against his skin. "It didn't occur to me that you might be frightened."

Renly laughed softly and merely tightened his grip on him, still not quite able to believe he was real. "It's alright Loras. I'm just tired is all. And I was so sure you were in Kings Landing."

Loras kissed his chest lightly before squirming out of his grip. “Wait here," he said. "I'll light a candle.” And slowly, the room swum into view, the dim light chasing away the shadows and playing with the golden streaks in Loras' hair. 

“I only meant to surpr-” Loras was saying, but he never finished his sentence for both his eyebrows shot up in surprise as he turned around. “What have you done to yourself Renly?" He exclaimed with a laugh. "I'd barely have recognised you.” 

Renly ran a hand though his rather short beard and grinned sheepishly. “Um... you weren't supposed to see me like this?”

Loras grinned widely. “Is that so?”

“Yes.” Renly said decisively, not able to resist the temptation to merely stare at Loras a bit. He was quite the picture, he thought, bathed in golden light from the candle behind him and clad in nothing but the thin white cotton of his small-clothes. 

“And why's that?” Loras had made his way back to him, looping his arms around Renly's hips and leaning back, grinning up at him like the cat that got the cream.

Renly smiled. “I don't know. I just thought you'd prefer me clean shaven.”

Loras let go and shrugged. “It suits you I guess.” He laughed. “And you could wear a bag over your head and still look handsome. To me at least.”

Renly grinned. Loras obviously must have missed him too. It was very unlike Loras to give such overt compliments. Whilst Loras wasn't at all stingy with his affection, it tended to come more with actions rather than words. He laughed. “I should warn you Loras. I'm vain enough as it is without you adding to it.”

“But it's the truth.” He led Renly back to the bed, smoothing the rumpled covers before nudging Renly to get in and beginning his attempts to smooth the covers once more. “You know Renly? That first evening I met you, you remember? When Penrose presented me to you like I was some kind of disobedient child instead of a squire?" He carried on when Renly nodded. "Well I thought you were the most handsome man I'd ever laid eyes on.” He'd finished with the covers now and climbed in beside him. “And it's still true now.”

Renly grinned. “Well obviously.” He ran a hand through Loras' wayward curls, probably so because he'd most likely already been in bed for some time waiting for him. “So you truly don't mind me like this? He ran a hand through his beard, feeling how rough it was against his fingertips. “It's probably won't be too pleasant kissing me.” He traced a finger along Loras' jaw, feeling on the contrary how soft the skin was there. He made to stand up. “I'll go shave for you Loras.”

“It's three in the morning Renly.” Loras grabbed his hands and pulled him back down. "And you've only just come back. Don't make me wait any longer will you?"

Renly laughed. “I know, but I'd quite like to fuck you until you can't walk remember? And I can't do that without kissing you properly." He sighed. “In fact, forget that. There's no _quite like_ about it. I don't think I could go to bed without at least fucking you a couple of times.”

Loras laughed and rolled on top of him. “And did I say you couldn't do that? That was in fact what I was aiming for earlier. Before you tried to punch me that is.” He grinned. “But what are we doing talking anyway? That definitely wasn't what I had planned for this evening.”

And before Renly could even gather his thoughts, Loras had closed the gap between them and he certainly didn't seem to care that Renly's jaw must have been scratchy for his tongue was in Renly's mouth and his hands in his hair and he was pressing himself against Renly so hard that there could be no doubt as to what Loras wanted.

It was all the encouragement Renly needed and he gasped as Loras dropped to his knees, drawing Renly into his mouth almost clumsily in his haste. His mouth was wet and willing and Renly knotted his hands in Loras' hair so hard he must have pulled several strands out. Loras didn't seem to notice though or perhaps he just didn't care, for he didn't pull his head away, merely glanced wickedly up at Renly before taking him deeper. He continued for a while like that, his hand wrapped tightly around of the base of his cock as his tongue traced warm stripes up and down his length. 

After a few moments though, he glanced up again. "I want to try something." He gasped, leaving Renly's cock feeling suddenly cold and neglected. He stood up abruptly and pushed Renly down on to the bed. "Stay." he ordered, clambering on top of Renly but the wrong way round, Loras choosing to face his feet rather than turn around and kiss him. He didn't complain though as Loras knelt next to his shoulder and leant over him. He wouldn't even have thought of moving. His only regret was that Loras was still in his small clothes. He'd have got quite a good view otherwise. As it was, he closed his eyes as Loras took him back into his mouth, curious as to what Loras wanted to try. It felt wonderful, warm and wet and yet didn't feel any different from usual.

He groaned as Loras shifted, moving to lie on top of him with one leg over each of Renly's shoulders. He was definitely irritated now that Loras was wearing clothes, He could feel him hard against his chest, his cock digging into him almost as Loras took him back into his mouth.

He was just about to ask Loras to stop and take his clothes off before he did anything else when he couldn't help but gasp at whatever Loras was doing with his mouth, The sensation was deliciously tight and Renly tried to peer round to see what Loras was doing, only to have Loras sound like he was choking.

"Stay put" Loras ordered, glancing round over his shoulder and almost glaring at him. The grin on his face though betrayed that he wasn't truly angry and so Renly just groaned and pushed his head back down. Loras laughed but obliged, this time taking Renly deeper even than he had just done. He went slowly and Renly sighed as again he felt that wonderful wet, tight feeling as Loras took him further and further, his mouth sliding along his length inch by inch. And eventually Renly couldn't help but cry out in pleasure out as Loras' nose pressed against his balls and it was all Renly could do not to thrust into his mouth then and there and come down his throat.

It seemed Loras wasn't going to let him do that though for within seconds he was up again, gasping for air and swivelling round. He didn't stop for breath though and Renly groaned again as Loras nipped at his throat, his fingers digging into his shoulders impatiently. “Where was it you wanted me?” Loras panted against his neck. “Was it on all fours or against the wall?”

“Both.” Renly gasped, forcing a hand between them to rub Loras' own neglected cock.

“But which one first.” Loras almost whined, throwing his head back as Renly gripped him through his small clothes.

“For fuck's sake, does it matter which one first? Renly laughed breathlessly and tugged off Loras' smallclothes, pushing him roughly up onto his knees as soon as he was in nature's own. “Come on Loras, bend over nicely for me?"

Loras growled at that and shoved him hard in the shoulder, but he did do as he was told and clambered onto his hands and knees, uncharacteristically wobbly as if he'd forgotten quite how to use his legs.

The sight of him there even by the dim candlelight made Renly's pulse race yet more quickly and he almost tripped over his feet as he dug around desperately for the vial of oil.

Meanwhile Loras glanced round expectantly, sighing impatiently when he saw Renly still scrabbling around on the floor and rocking forward onto one elbow, his spare hand reaching behind to stretch himself open with licked fingers in Renly's absence.

Loras had worked up to two fingers by the time Renly found what he was looking for and he took over from there. It wasn't long though before Renly couldn't bear to wait any longer. And so, roughly, he pushed Loras forward again, kneeling behind him and pushing into him with a small cry. And if Loras sometimes complained Renly was too gentle with him, or treated him like he was fragile, he would surely be forced to eat his words and Renly groaned as he felt Loras brace himself with each thrust, pushing back against him as he cried out. Renly vaguely remembered how at the beginning, he had been horrified at the thought of having Loras on his hands and knees like some whore he was using for his pleasure, and yet now, when they knew every inch of each other's bodies better than their own, Renly found the sight of Loras bent over like that and taking his cock more rousing than he ever could have imagined.

And it wasn't like Loras seemed to find it all degrading or humiliating, for every so often he'd throw his head back in pleasure and neither was there was no arrogance or haughtiness in his expression, only an uninhibited side of Loras that only Renly ever got to see. 

And he gave orders as no whore would ever have dared to do. “Stand up” He gasped between cries just as Renly was getting close. “I want you deeper.”

Renly obliged, pulling out and grabbing Loras' hips to drag him to the edge of the bed. Loras yelped as he entered him again and Renly kept his grip on Loras' hips, pulling him towards him as he rocked up into him. It seemed to be what Loras wanted for his cries got louder and louder and before long he'd collapsed forward onto his elbows, burying his face in the covers.

Renly didn't know if was he or Loras who came first but either way, he completely forgot how to breathe as he tipped over the edge, his balance failing him as he fell forward onto Loras, pushing him flat under his weight. Loras didn't seem to care though and he too was panting into the sheets rather than nudging for Renly to get off him. 

And so Renly stayed there for a good few minutes, gasping for air against Loras' back and tasting salt on his skin until he'd got his breath back. 

“So...” Renly panted, rolling over and flopping down heavily beside him. “Do you think you will be able to walk again?”

Loras stretched out a little tentatively and grinned. “I reckon so.” He laughed and dragged Renly up the bed where he then curled up next to him and laid his head against Renly's chest. "We'll have to find out in the morning I guess.” 

Renly smiled and brushed Loras' damp curls back from his forehead. The weight against his chest was a familiar one and Renly thought he might be happy if neither of them never moved. He sighed deeply and rubbed Loras' back for him, quite aware that Loras was most likely aching from having stayed on his hands and knees so long. "You're wonderful Loras." He laughed. "Did I ever tell you that?" And also, might I ask, how did you do that thing earlier?"

"What thing?" Loras laughed, the sound vibrating through Renly's chest. "It was you doing most of the work even if you didn't get around to fucking me against the wall like you promised you would."

"You know, that thing with your mouth?" Renly ran his hands up and down Loras' spine, feeling every familiar bump and groove.

Loras laughed softly, arching his back into Renly's touch. "Perseverance." He closed his eyes and yawned. “Now tell me about Dorne. I want to hear all about it.”

Renly hesitated before answering, his hand coming to a standstill between Loras' shoulderblades. “Not as bad as you might expect" He said, laughing a little nervously. That was perhaps the understatement of the century he thought. He paused and took a deep breath, thinking that if he was ever going to be truthful with Loras it had better be now though. He laughed again, trying to keep his tone light. "I had to fight off some unwanted advances though." He admitted. "It seemed a good number of people wanted to entice me away from you.”

He must have succeeded with keeping the tone light for Loras just laughed sleepily and pulled Renly to him. “let them try.” he yawned, warming Renly's stomach.

Renly smiled and gently nudged Loras off his chest before he could fall asleep there, rolling him over and pressing his cheek against Loras'.

“I've heard that Dornish princess is a bit of a harlot.” Loras mumbled, seeming already to be drifting off sleep.

“It was her uncle that bothered me more actually.” Renly confessed, feeling a little uneasy about the whole thing.

And indeed Loras' brow furrowed at that even though he didn't move from his spot in Renly's arms. “I hope you told him in no uncertain terms that he'd have more chance bedding a septa?"

Renly felt this not the time to inform Loras that indeed one of Oberyn's so called sand snakes was indeed the daughter of a septa. “Well I didn't use those words, but I shouldn't worry." He kissed Loras' forhead gently. "Now hush Loras. You must be exhausted, waiting up for me like that. Why don't we talk of it in the morning?”

Loras nodded and gazed up at him, eyes wide now despite the fact he already looked half asleep. "Nothing happened though did it?"

Renly shook his head. “Nothing of consequence.” He'd made up his mind now. He would talk more of it in the morning with Loras, and somehow something told him that Loras would probably be a lot more sympathetic than he had previously thought.

Loras sighed then and tucked his head back into the crook of Renly's arm. Renly's words had seemed to placate him and Renly smiled as he watched him close his eyes. His curls were still stuck to his forehead and his lips a little swollen, not to mention the angry red rash that Renly's beard had given him, but even so Renly was quite sure he was the most perfect creature he'd ever laid eyes on. And the fact that he was here, beside him in his bed at Storm's End filled Renly with such a warmth that he was quite sure he wouldn't be able to sleep tonight.

Instead, he just lay back against the pillows, watching Loras' breathing become slowly more steady until it was quite clear he'd fallen asleep. Smiling, Renly tucked a curl behind his ear and as gently as he could tried to wrap his arms round him again, trying to lift Loras slightly so he could slip an arm underneath him. He loved nothing more than having Loras asleep in his arms and it was a rare delight indeed.

It seemed it was not to be though for Loras stirred every so slightly. “Renly?” Loras murmured, so softly that it would have been inaudible had his lips not been inches from Renly's ear.

Renly sighed, lamenting the fact Loras was such a light sleeper. “Why aren't you asleep?” he whispered, kissing the corners of Loras' bruised lips and trying not to scratch him any more.

It couldn't have been a familar sensation for him and yet Loras smiled sleepily, letting Renly kiss first his top lip and then his bottom until he was completely satisfied. Loras then yawned, sitting up and leaning over to blow out the candle before lifting the covers and crawling underneath them. He waited until Renly had climbed in beside him before smoothing them down and pulling the covers up over them. "I was asleep." he sighed, finally answering Renly's question and smiling up at him. "Why aren't you?"

Renly felt a little guilty that he'd woken him but now that Loras was awake though, he had to admit he was more compliant, shifting willingly so that Renly could get his arms round him like he'd wanted. “I like it when you're sleeping.” Renly admitted. “You look so peaceful So lovely.”

“You like to watch me when I'm sleeping?” Loras laughed softly, “Can't be that interesting. Better to watch me joust instead.”

“But its so rare I see you asleep. I just can't help myself.” Renly grinned sheepishly and rested his head on top of Loras'. He supposed it was a silly pleasure of his that he couldn't expect Loras to share. He imagined that Loras after all got to see him asleep for the better part of most nights.

“You are funny sometimes Renly.” Loras yawned and buried his head in Renly's shoulder. “Now come, go to sleep. You can watch me in the morning if you like.”

“But you wont' be asleep then.” Renly almost whined. 

“I'll pretend for you.” And with that Loras grinned and pushed Renly's head down onto the pillow. 


	68. Chapter 68

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In a bit of a rush, so will reply to all your lovely comments as soon as possible! I thought you'd rather have the next chapter than replies and there was only time for one or the other. And WildKnees you read me like a book...

Renly slept well that night, savouring the way the sheets didn't stick to him and way the cool air blew in through the window. He woke refreshed and in a good mood, and yet he was quite sure that he must have imagined seeing Loras last night. It seemed too much like a perfect dream to possible be true. And so he was rather surprised when upon opening his eyes he found that Loras was not only there beside him but that he was still asleep between Renly's arms.

Renly smiled sleepily and picked up a curl lazily, twirling it around his finger before letting it go and watching it spring back into shape as he did his best to wake up. Rubbing his eyes, he vaguely registered that the red marks across Loras' jaw and cheeks had faded to almost nothing. If anything, he looked like he was blushing slightly or merely a little flushed from excitement perhaps. Smiling again, Renly kissed his cheek very very gently, rubbing small circles against his skin as he watched his chest rise and fall.

He was more awake now and he gazed around his chambers fondly as continued to stroke Loras' cheek, the room made ever more pleasant by Loras' presence. Everything was as he left it, his familiar things making him smile more than he would have expected. Admittedly the servants had tidied a little in his absence and and a particularly kindly one had even brought him up breakfast on a tray.

He frowned though when he dwelt on a little more on that though, his sleep-clouded mind eventually working out that that should have been impossible.Moving his hand from Loras' cheek, he sat up in quite a panic. He'd thought he'd locked the door last night, and yet he couldn't have done, for one of the servants had evidently come in and brought him breakfast, most likely in the process also seeing him like this, naked and tangled up with Loras.

He was just beginning to feel all too embarrassed about it when he caught sight of the door, becoming rather confused when he saw that the door was still locked, from the inside.

It took him less time to figure out that mystery though and raised an exasperated eyebrow, nudging Loras less-than-gently. "How long have you been up?" He pressed. Glancing around though, he had to admire Loras' effort though. He'd put his clothes back on the floor exactly where Renly had taken them off him and he either hadn't sorted his hair out in the first place or he had spent a good amount of time ruffling it up again.

Loras yawned, curling into Renly's hip. “Up?”

“Yes _up_.” Renly grinned down at him. “I'm not stupid you know.”

Loras laughed and opened his eyes. “That's news to me.” He pressed himself closer, pulling Renly's down to lie with him again. “I definitely had you fooled for the last twenty minutes at least.”

Renly rolled his eyes and lay his head down next to Loras' on the pillow. He had to admit he did feel a little silly. Loras had warned him he was going to do exactly this and yet he'd been fooled nonetheless. He liked to think though that it was more to do with him still being half asleep than anything else, but he imagined that Loras would feel otherwise.

He sighed and kissed Loras' hair fondly. "“I'm glad you're here Loras.” He told him. "Even if you do enjoy making an idiot out of me."

"Making an idiot out of you?" Loras grinned. "I thought it would please you?"

Renly just laughed and rolled his eyes. He supposed that he had rather enjoyed it while it lasted. He smiled as he wrapped his arms back around Loras, leaning his forehead against Loras' own. They lay there in silence for several minutes, doing nothing save smile at each other, wrapped tightly in each other's embrace. Renly rather wished that he didn't have to return to the capital at all now and he thought he'd have given up all his lands and titles just to be able to stay lying like this forever, with Loras and only Loras. 

Eventually though, Renly broke the silence rather reluctantly, tracing a finger across Loras' cheek as he drew back a little. "Did you want to talk about Dorne now? About Prince Oberyn" He couldn't help but feel a little nervous about it and yet he knew that it had to be done. He'd promised Loras they'd talk of it more in the morning and he wasn't about to go back on his word now regardless of how much he would have liked to.

His nervousness must have shown in his voice though for Loras regarded him a little curiously. "“If you want to." he said, pressing his forehead back against Renly's. "But if you say nothing happened then nothing happened. We don't have to talk about it if it makes you uncomfortable."

"No" Renly took a deep breath and sat up against the headboard. "I want to talk about it. Otherwise I'll feel guilty."

Loras' brow furrowed. "What's the matter Renly?"  He wrapped his arms around one of Renly's thighs, resting his chin just above his knee. "Why should you feel guilty? You didn't ask him to make advances on you."

Renly sighed. "It's a little more complicated than that." He knew that it wasn't his fault that Oberyn had pursued him and yet he couldn't help but feel uneasy about the fact that he'd been a little aroused by it all despite his lack of co-operation, not to mention the fact that he'd found sharing the baths with his men more than a little stirring too.

Loras cocked his head, sitting up beside him. "Well I'll listen if you want to explain it to me." He tilted Renly's head back and kissed the hollow at the base of his throat. "And I'll hunt down that viper for you too if you like? It would be my pleasure."

Renly smiled wryly, biting back a sigh as he contemplated where to start. It took him a few moments before he spoke and he started at the very beginning with Oberyn cornering him in the baths, telling Loras of how the dornish prince had inched closer and sat as close to him as he could get in the water. He then told of their discussion about Elia and subsequently prince's insistence on following him everywhere, tailing his down corridors and lurking in the shadows of the old palace. Loras looked furious as he spoke of that and Renly found himself wondering exactly how rashly Loras would have behaved had he been with him in Dorne to witness such goings on. 

He couldn't bear to look at Loras' face though as he told him about that last night in Sunspear and the way that Oberyn had touched him through his breeches and how he'd stiffened ever so quickly under his touch despite not wanting to. He trailed off after that and fell into silence, looking down at his hands. When Loras didn't say anything either though, eventually Renly had to risk glancing up.

"Is that it?" Loras asked with a frown. " _That's_ why you feel guilty?"

Renly shrugged. "I suppose. Nothing actually happened, but it crossed my mind not to say no Loras and that's a terrible thing to have to admit to you."

"It's not so terrible." Loras said, taking Renly's hands in his own. "I should think it's normal to feel like that when someone touches you. Even when it's someone as foul as that Dornish prince. I shouldn't feel guilty about it Renly."

"But I could have slept with him" Renly said quietly. "I almost wanted to for a few moments."

"But you didn't."

"But I _could_ have done."

Loras raised an eyebrow. "And yet you didn't." He grinned. "We could go on for ages like this." He pushed the corners of Renly's mouth up with his fingers. "Now smile. I didn't come all this way to see you miserable."

Renly gave a weak smile for him. "But there's more" he admitted.

Loras laughed. "What is it? Did you dream about someone who wasn't me? Accidentally bump shoulders with another man? Come on, confess."

Renly couldn't help rolling his eyes at that. He explained rather meekly though his excitement in the bathtub as Ser Guyard had soaped his chest and various other parts of his anatomy. His cheeks were bright red by the time he'd finished. 

And yet Loras merely burst into laughter. "Really Renly? _Ser Guyard_?"

Renly sighed and allowed himself a small smile. "You think I have bad taste?"

Loras grinned. "I think you have wonderful taste." He gestured to himself with a smirk. He paused though as Renly chuckled, looking pensive for moment. "Do you remember when you told me about your little tryst with that dornish boy Renly?" he eventually said. 

"Of course I do." Renly sighed. "You wouldn't speak to me afterwards."

Loras shrugged. "I was a little angry I guess. But anyway that's not what I wanted to tell you." He sighed deeply. "You came looking for me that day. And I was so happy you'd come." His eyes shone with amusement. "In my naivety I thought that you had come to tell me that you wanted me, more than you'd wanted that dornish boy. And I was so hopeful." He raised his eyebrow. "And _then_ I saw that you'd brought Ser Guyard with you. And you were standing there beside him with your hand on his arm and it just made me more furious than I'd been all day." He laughed. "It seemed to me that you were deliberately giving everyone the time of day except me. That you were going to take Ser Guyard to bed too instead of me."

Renly cocked his head. "But surely you must have known it was _unlikely_ Ser Guyard would even want to?"

Loras scoffed. "Ser Guyard is so desperate for your approval he'd probably jump into bed with you if you asked." He laughed. "And I didn't think of things like that. As far as I was concerned back then _everyone_ wanted you, because you were handsome and because you make people feel special just by smiling at them." He sighed. "It didn't help either that Ser Guyard was the only person in Storm's End who was better than me with a sword. _And_ he was taller and your own age besides ,handsome enough too I suppose." he added with a look of irritation. "And I absolutely hated him for it."

Renly laughed. "Were you jealous?"

"I was jealous of everyone you even spoke to Renly."

"But you're not now?" Renly was actually rather surprised at how little Loras seemed to be bothered by all Renly had told him. 

Loras grinned. "Not really. I don't think I could get rid of you now if I tried."

He leant in to kiss him and yet Renly pushed him back with a laugh. "Later. I don't want to make you sore again."

He got up and pulled a pair of breeches on, rummaging around in his drawers for his razor and pausing for a minute as he came across a pair of clippers he'd never used. He supposed it might be a good idea to cut his beard back a little before trying to shave it. It had taken him years with nothing but a razor the last time. Grabbing the bowl he usually used for washing his face, he set it in front of the looking glass and sat down at the table.

"Could you do me a favour Loras and find me a bowl of hot water from somewhere?" He knew it was naughty of him to use Loras as his squire and yet in the absence of any one else, it couldn't really be helped. And there was no way he was descending having not yet shaved. He was rather glad only Penrose had waited up last night.

Loras nodded though and pulled on his clothes, disappearing out the door.

Renly set to work to work straight away. It didn't take him long to trim it until it was nothing more than rather heavy stubble and he smiled at Loras as he came back in and perched himself on the edge of the table and, watching what Renly was doing curiously. He'd never had much occasion to see him shave as it was one of Renly's morning activities and Loras had without fail spent each morning in the training yard, beating some poor fellow squire with a sword or some other blunt weapon.

Smiling, Renly reached for the bowl of hot water Loras had brought. He then dipped a piece of cloth in the hot water and pressed it to his face, holding it there for a few minutes.

"What's that for?" Loras asked, leaning over to get a better look.

"It makes the hair softer." Renly told him, moving the wet towel to his neck. He then reached for his shaving brush and the soap, working it up into a lather in its small bowl.

"And why do you do it yourself?" Loras leant back lazily across the table, propping himself up on his elbows.

Renly laughed. "I haven't always. When I first started needing to, Penrose found me one a boy to do it for me."

"And?" There was a hint of a smile though on Loras' face as if he knew exactly where Renly was going with this.   
  
"And I couldn't deal with it. He wasn't _that_ attractive I suppose, but he used to lean in ever so close as he was doing it." He sighed. "And let's just say it was rather embarrassing."  
  
Loras laughed. "Too much temptation then?" He grinned as Renly picked up the razor. “ In that case, I'll do it for you if you like. I enjoy being a temptation.”

Renly laughed. “You? what experience do you have with a razor?”

Loras raised a eyebrow. “I'm a quick learner." He prodded Renly's bare shoulder. "And don't you trust me?”

Renly laughed and handed the blade over. He supposed handling a razor wouldn't be so different from handling a sword. He knew after all that Loras had a very steady hand.

“So what do I do?” Loras asked, leaning over him curiously and dabbing some of the shaving lather onto Renly's chin.

“You'll need more than that.” Renly told him. "Otherwise you'll give me a rash."

Loras promptly followed his instructions and soon there was a very intentional blob of it on Renly's nose.

"All right." Renly laughed, pulling away from him. "I think you've put quite enough now."

“And do I go this way or this way?” Loras twisted the blade one way and then the other.

“You mean with or against the grain?”

“Probably.” 

“However you like” Renly said, leaning back in his chair and handing himself over to Loras.

“Well what would _you_ like? What do you usually do?”

Renly laughed. “Against the grain can irritate a bit. I only do that when I've got kissing you in mind.”

Loras shrugged. “well do you have kissing me in mind now?”

Renly nodded sheepishly and Loras grinned as sat himself down, straddling Renly's lap. It was a real shame, Renly thought, that Loras had had to put his clothes on to go downstairs. He was in the perfect place for things that were a lot more fun than shaving. On the other hand though, perhaps Loras' clothing was for the best. Otherwise, Renly was quite sure he indeed would have ended up making love to him then and there, which would probably not be conducive to getting a good shave in the slightest. And that would defy the entire point of why he was shaving in the first place.

Even with Loras fully clothed though, he did feel the familiar ache deep in his stomach as Loras shifted to get comfortable. 

“Now tell me about you.” Renly ordered, thinking it a good idea to focus on something else other than the way Loras was sliding against him in his lap. “I've heard you've done well these last two weeks?”

Loras frowned as he leant in, pressing the razor to Renly's cheek and biting down on his lower lip in concentration. “I didn't at Brightwater." He said. 

"Penrose told me you reached the finals though?"As far as Renly was concerned, reaching the finals was more than doing well. He couldn't remember ever getting past the third or fourth round himself.  
  
"Mmm-hmm." Loras slid the razor across Renly's jaw, hand steady as if he'd done this a thousand times before. 

"Well that's brilliant." Renly told him, sighing and tilting back his head to let Loras better access his neck. "There's no shame in losing to the Kingslayer."  
  
Loras raised an eyebrow. "No shame yes, but all the same, I should have liked to send him crashing into the dirt with the rest of his white-cloaked brothers." He smirked. "Complete the set so to speak."

Renly laughed. "Someday you shall."   
  
Loras didn't answer, just frowned in concentration again as he glided the razor over the sensitive spot below Renly's ear. He hadn't so much as nicked Renly yet and Renly wasn't surprised in the slightest. To think Loras capable of hurting him was a paradox somehow, one of those things that Renly had simply learnt not to question. 

Loras glanced up though after a few minutes. “Also,” Loras purred as he moved the razor back to Renly's chin and went over a spot he'd missed. “Would you mind if I clipped your hair a bit down there? Made it a bit shorter?”

Renly laughed. That was perhaps the oddest request Loras had made of him yet. “Whatever for?” he asked, wondering if Loras was actually being serious. 

Loras seemed completely serious though. “So it doesn't get in my mouth when I pleasure you like that.” he said simply. Loras had put down the razor now and he frowned as he traced a finger over Renly's jaw, wiping away what remained of the shaving lather. "Well can I?"

Renly laughed and rubbed a hand over his face. Loras had done a good job. He dithered though in answering the question at hand. Renly sighed. He wasn't overly fond of the idea but he supposed that if it would make Loras more comfortable when he took him into his mouth, then he could hardly say no, not when Loras was so generous with all he gave. “If you like.” he said eventually, biting back a sigh and looking down at his feet a little awkwardly.

Loras slid off his lap then and dropped to his knees. Renly had never bothered to lace his breeches up properly and Loras only needed to give them a tug to pull them down to Renly's knees. He then picked up Renly's feet one by one to slide them off his ankles. Still knelt on the floor, he then reached up for the clippers on the table. 

Renly winced as Loras took the first cut, torn between wanting to look away and needing to watch. He wasn't quite sure his inherent trust in Loras extended this far, not when there was a pair of rather sharp clippers in his hands and he was knelt in between Renly's knees. 

Loras didn't cut the hair ever so very close though and yet even so Renly found himself getting more than a little nervous as Loras' hand got anywhere near his rather delicate parts. He was even more bewildered when Loras moved his hand upwards and clipped even the small amount of hair on his stomach which could only really be for aesthetic purposes. Renly frowned as Loras cut the hair there as close to the skin as he could get. He'd always assumed Loras liked everything about his body and yet if he wasn't mistaken, Loras seemed to be up for making quite a few changes.

He fidgeted even more anxiously as Loras clipped the little hair he had behind his balls, doing his best to stay still and yet not succeeding very well at all. Thankfully, Loras seemed more steady than he was. 

“But _why?_ ” Renly couldn't help but whine as Loras continued. “It's not like you lick there.”

“well maybe we'll change that.” Loras grinned, playfully licking the inside of Renly's thigh. 

Renly sighed and let Loras finish. He couldn't help but think he looked a little like one of those topiary hedges he'd seen at Ashford by the time Loras was through with him and he could only begin to imagine what Robert, or any other man really, would say if they knew Renly was having the hair around his manhood trimmed into a neat and tidy style.

Loras seemed happy enough though with his handiwork and he kissed the top of Renly's cock before standing up. “All done.” He smirked. “That wasn't so hard was it?”

Renly nodded, inspecting what Loras had done rather suspiciously. “Are you going to want me to be like this all the time?” He asked.

Loras shrugged. “Haven't thought about it."  He frowned." Why? Don't you like it?”

He seemed a little disappointed at Renly's lack of enthusiasm and so Renly did his best to smile brightly. “I don't mind it Loras. And if it makes you happy, then I'm all for it.” That much was true he supposed. He'd always given Loras everything he asked for and he wasn't about to stop now. And if this is what Loras wanted in return for being kind enough to meet him in Storm's End, then that was fine by him.

Loras grinned. “Good." He then pushed his own breeches down and climbed purposefully back into Renly's lap. "Indulge me a little further?" He whispered, trailing a finger over Renly's freshly shaven jaw and leaning in to kiss his neck. 

Renly closed his eyes and merely pulled Loras in to kiss him. This was something he was more than happy to indulge Loras in. 


	69. Chapter 69

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I'm immature

Having Loras sit atop like that his lap had always been one of Renly's favourite ways to make love to him and yet Renly was quite exhausted by the time they were both satisfied. It took the last of his strength to haul Loras off his lap and deposit him on the bed and even then, he almost tripped over the bowl of hot water . Panting, he rested his head on Loras' chest and tried to get his breath back.

"You know Loras?" Renly closed his eyes and sighed deeply. "I think you're getting a bit heavy for that."

" _Or..._ " Loras nudged Renly's head off his chest and sat up to grin at him. "It's been too long since you did anything more exerting than walking up the stairs." He prodded Renly's stomach and smirked down at him. "You'll end up like your brother if you're not careful."

Renly rolled his eyes. "And if I didn't know better, I'd think that you think me unattractive." He sighed and tried to keep a straight face. "First, you cut off all my hair and now you're calling me fat!"

"I didn't cut all your hair off." Loras insisted with a smile, though there was a threatening glint in his eyes that made Renly worry that that might be what he suggested next. "And I'm not calling you fat." He kissed Renly's stomach. "You're lovely. I'm just suggesting that you might get a little less tired if you took to the training yard more often."

Renly grinned. "You're probably right, as usual."

"I'm always right." Loras smirked and moved to sit on Renly's thighs. "Am I really too heavy to sit like this then?"

"I like you there, you've got most of your weight on your knees though." Renly pointed out, patting one of Loras' thighs to illustrate his point.

"Alright then." Loras grinned and shifted, bringing his legs up. "How about now?"

Renly groaned. "Now you're bloody heavy." He was quite relieved when Loras rolled off him and lay back down next to him. His slim frame was rather deceptive, Renly thought. Loras was a lot heavier than he looked. A lot lighter than himself, Renly supposed, but then again, that probably wasn't saying much seeing as he'd always been a rather large man.

Loras smiled. "You'd tell me wouldn't you, if somewhere I put myself wasn't comfortable for you?"

Renly laughed. "Do you mean generally, or when we're being rather more intimate?"

"Both I guess. But I meant the latter."

Renly grinned. "I'd probably just move you." He poked Loras playfully. "You probably wouldn't be too impressed if I tapped you on the shoulder half way through and asked if you if you might kindly find somewhere else to put yourself."

Loras laughed. "Well it would ruin the mood a little I suppose."

Renly chuckled and stretched out, yawning loudly. "Where does it feel best Loras?"

Loras caught one of Renly's stretching arms in mid-air and pulled it around him. "I don't know?" He grinned. "I guess it depends on how I'm feeling. I guess it feels _best_ when you take me from behind." He laughed. "Because you get really deep and you tend to be rough with me when I'm like that."

"And you like it when I'm rough with you?" Renly rolled over so he was on top of him, playfully pinning one of Loras' arms behind his head. 

Loras laughed and rolled his eyes. He didn't pull his arm away though. "You know fully well that I like it when you're rough with me." He nudged one of his knees in between Renly's legs. "But as I was saying, it depends on my mood what I like best."

"So what else do you like then?" Renly took Loras' other hand and pinned that behind his head too, making him laugh. 

"I like it when you can kiss me at the same time" He said through laughter. "And when we can press close against each other."  
  
Renly grinned and pushed both his legs in between Loras'. "Like this then?" He kissed Loras' neck, keeping his arms firmly pinned against the bed. "Would this fulfill all your requirements?"  
  
Loras laughed. "It would." He squirmed though and tried to get his hands free. "But not _now_." 

"Why not?" Renly kissed his bottom lip gently and grinned. "Too tired from earlier? Not up to it are we Loras?"

Loras looked indignant at that and rolled his eyes. "No." He insisted. "It's just that we need to go downstairs at some point. It's already near midday and my squire will be wondering where I am." He laughed. "He was already confused enough that I'd brought us here in the first place.”

Renly had forgotten all about the Fossoway boy. “You didn't tell me you'd brought him with you?”

“Well what else would I do with him?”

Renly laughed, releasing Loras' arms and letting him sit up. “Well where is he now then?” 

“I don't know? Probably exploring or something. Or else dithering in the kitchens plucking up the courage to ask them for a saffron bun." He sighed. "Although knowing him he could equally be sitting in his room and hiding."

"Awww." Renly got off the bed and walked to the wardrobe, rifling through it to find something nice to wear. "We should go and find him then. Where did Penrose put him?"  
  
"In my old room." Loras came and joined him at the wardrobe and Renly realised then with much amusement that a good third of the clothes he was flicking through were in fact Loras'. 

Renly picked a velvet shirt that had a lovely matching surcoat and began dressing himself. "Really? I'd have thought Penrose would have put you in your old room."

Loras scowled and rolled his eyes. “I thought he would do. He was a right nuisance when I arrived was Penrose. Just stood there at the gates with a smirk on his face and told me that the _lord of Storm's End is not here_ and that I should go about my business elsewhere.”

Renly grinned. That sounded like the sort of thing Penrose would take pleasure in. Winding up Loras had always been one of the older man's favourite pastimes.  “And what did you say to that?”

“I told him to go fuck himself.”

“ _Loras!_ ” Renly raised his eyebrows and turned to face him. 

Loras shrugged. “He was irritating me. _And_ he refused to call me by my title. Spoke to me like I was still your squire and ten years old at that.”

Renly just smiled and nodded innocently. He didn't doubt that Loras would always be a child to Penrose and he imagined too that there was probably too sides to this particular story. Loras had never shown any respect towards Penrose and Renly doubted very much that Loras would have addressed Penrose as Ser Cortnay when he'd presented himself at the gates of Storm's End. As such, Renly supposed Penrose would be quite within his rights to drop Loras' title.

“But he did agree to let you wait at Storm's End for me though didn't he?”

“Not really.” Loras scowled. “I mean he was obviously always going to let me stay but whilst he quite pleasantly found rooms for Tommas and my men, he just raised his eyebrow and insisted there wasn't room for me. That I would have to sleep outside with the farm animals.”

Renly couldn't help laugh at that, not being able to stop even when Loras glared at him, his golden eyes not amused. "So what did you do then?" He choked out, wiping the tears from his eyes. 

"I just took Tommas to his room and came up here. Penrose found it ever so amusing." Loras scowled. "He was lucky I didn't slap the smirk off his face."

“Oh Loras, he's rather fond of you actually.” That was true, Renly thought. He'd had several conversations with Penrose in the past where his castellan had admitted as much.

Loras grimaced though. “Don't disgust me.” He pulled on the rest of his clothes. "Now come on, let's see if we can find my squire without finding Penrose."

Renly laughed and followed him out of the door. He couldn't help but smile as they descended the stairs, grinning broadly for no reason other than the fact that he was back home with Loras at his side. He supposed it helped too though that the sun was shining outside and yet not burning down on them like it had been in Dorne. 

Loras it seemed though was not to get his wish. They bumped straight into Penrose as soon as they were down the stairs. 

He stopped when he saw them, depositing the papers he was carrying on a nearby window ledge and laughing. “You're still here then are you Renly?"

Renly rolled his eyes. “And where's Red Ronnet Penrose?”

Penrose just laughed heartily. "I didn't tell you Ronnet Connington was here."  
  
"But you let me believe it. I could have spent all night worrying about have to take him to Kings Landing with me."  
  
Penrose raised an eyebrow, a twinkle in his eye. "And yet I imagine you didn't." His eyes flicked pointedly to Loras and back again, an amused smile playing at his lips.

Renly felt himself turn pink. "Well no." he said, not meeting Penrose' eye. He did however glance at Loras who to his surprise didn't actually seem to be too bothered by that particular jibe. He supposed though that Loras had never been embarrassed about what the two of them did together, something Renly wished would rub off on him. It only took a few subtle insinuations before Renly was feeling quite ashamed, whereas somebody could probably accuse Loras outright of going to bed with a man and he probably wouldn't even bother to deny it. 

To Renly's relief though, Penrose seemed to know where to draw the line and he smiled, changing the subject. “Shall I let the kitchens know we'll be feeding more than they expected then?”

Renly just nodded sheepishly. 

“I took the liberty too of having Alyn sent here instead of Kings Landing. I should say he may arrive tomorrow morning." He then turned to Loras, smiling brightly and rumpling his hair. "And Loras. That squire of yours is looking for you. He's just outside, dithering on the stairs.” 

And with that, he picked up his papers back up and carried on down the corridor, chuckling as Loras scowled at him.

Loras sighed though when Penrose had turned the corner. “Better go find my squire then” he mumbled to Renly. “The master at arms has agreed to let him join with the squires here and I should probably point him in the right direction.”

Renly smiled. “I bet the master at arms was pleased to see you? He was always very fond.”

Loras shrugged. “Was he?.” He laughed. ““Anyway who's Alyn?”

Renly grinned. “Your replacement.”

Loras laughed. “My replacement? As a squire or in other areas too?”

Renly shrugged, not being able to resist teasing Loras a little. “Definitely as a squire. Haven't seen him though since he was ten or eleven or so, so I'll reserve judgement on the other areas part.”

Loras didn't seem in the least bit threatened though. “Good to know.” He merely said, looking pensive for a moment. “But if you haven't seen him since he was ten or eleven, how old is he now?”

“He's almost thirteen.”

“ _Thirteen?!_ ” he laughed. “Well that's cheating. Your squire is going to have two years on mine.”

“And?”

“And nothing.” Loras conceded eventually.  “Mine will still be better than yours anyway. He must be a right runt if no-one's wanted him yet for a squire.”

“ _You_ were a right runt when you came here.” Renly countered with a laugh. “You were tiny. I could have snapped you in half with my little finger.” That had certainly been true. A lot of doubts had been raised in Storm's End about Loras' suitability, and indeed he had looked rather more like a little lady than a squire when he'd arrived, what with his ringlets and delicate features. He hadn't behaved like one though and those doubts had soon been proved wrong. 

Loras rolled his eyes. “But _thirteen?_  And he hasn't even been taken as a page yet either? There has to be something wrong with him.”

Renly laughed. “Well come on then, lets go and find yours and I'll see what the competition is.”

They found Tommas Fossoway on the steps leading down to the yard like Penrose said he'd be, looking a little lost and bewildered. Renly felt quite sorry for him and had he known that Loras had brought the boy with him, he might have insisted that Loras leave his chambers rather a lot earlier that morning despite the fact that he desperately wanted to keep Loras to himself for the whole day.

“What are you doing there?” Loras asked when they got a little closer. 

“Nothing ser Loras.” the boy all but squeaked, looking nervously at Renly as if he too might question what he was doing milling about there. 

Loras just sighed and beckoned him up the steps. “Tommas, come meet lord Renly.”

It was very odd indeed to hear Loras refer to him so formally but Renly smiled all the same down at the young boy. He was rather on the short side, though definitely larger than Loras had been when he first started squiring. What did surprise him though was that he appeared to have a real sword at his belt, although sheathed as it was he couldn't tell whether it was at all sharp. Reflecting on that though, Renly supposed he ought not to be surprised at all really. Loras would probably see nothing at all wrong with giving an eleven year old real steel. 

Tommas bobbed awkwardly in return. “It's an honour my lord.” He stammered.

Renly grinned. “Likewise.” He bent down a little to better talk to him. “I wish you luck. Ser Loras here was my squire once and he was an absolute nightmare.”

Loras scoffed. “Don't you listen to a word he says Tommas. He's making it all up. Now run along and join all those other squires over there. The master at arms is expecting you.”

The boy glanced in the direction of the master of arms who was currently laying into one of the young boys for turning up for practice with a dirty weapon, his voice booming across the courtyard. 

He cowered slightly. “Do I have to?

“Yes you have to.” 

“But what if he...” the boy trailed off as he shrank back once more from the master at arm's shouting.

Loras sighed. “Is _your_ weapon dirty?”

“Well no.” The boy admitted, looking down at his feet. 

“So what are you worrying about.” Loras gave his shoulder a small push. “Now go.”

Tommas didn't dare disagree with Loras a second time, and nervously he went off in the direction of the other squires, clutching his sword. 

Loras sighed and leant back against the castle walls. “I've a lot of work to do with that one.”

Renly laughed. “Well to be fair, the master at arms can be rather terrifying.” He'd never said so much as a cross word to Renly personally, not even when Renly had slowly stopped coming to practise. But Renly had seen more squires and even a few young knights be brought to tears by the master-at arms criticisms. 

“Can he?” Loras frowned and glanced over to the man in question. “I'd never noticed.”

Renly rolled his eyes. “Well lucky for you. I dare say not a day has passed where you've ever be frightened.”

Loras laughed softly. “That's not true."

Renly frowned. He couldn't imagine Loras ever letting anything frighten him. He was quick to anger, but aside from when Loras had first kissed him and first had Renly inside him, Renly couldn't even remember seeing Loras even slightly nervous, and even on those occasions he'd done a very good job at hiding his nerves. "Tell me then," he laughed. "When have _you_ ever been frightened?"

Loras rolled his eyes and yet his expression was uncharacteristically soft. "You'd laugh."  
  
"Have I ever laughed at you?" Renly joined him in leaning against the wall, turning his face towards the sun. 

"Yes." Loras said pointedly, raising an eyebrow in amusement. And Renly had to admit that he was probably right. He and Loras spent a good portion of their time laughing at each other. 

"Accepted." Renly conceded with a grin. "But I promise not to laugh now."

"Alright then." Loras frowned ever so slightly, a faint blush across his cheeks. "Well I was a little frightened when I didn't hear back from you in the Prince's Pass." He didn't meet Renly's eye. "I was terrified something awful had happened to you.”

It would never have occured to Renly to laugh at that and he placed a hand on Loras' arm, the most affectionate gesture Renly could really give him while stood outside in public. “I don't like to think of you frightened. It suits you ill.”

Loras smiled, still a little pink. “Well its a good thing it doesn't happen often then.” He pulled on Renly's arm. “Now come. Let's go riding or something? Try and get some time alone together that isn't suspicious?”

That sounded like a wonderful idea to Renly and yet his stomach disagreed, rumbling loudly. 

"We'll take lunch with us." Loras suggested with a grin. "Make a picnic of it."

........................................

It didn't take the kitchens long to prepare food and they headed down to the stables as soon as everything was ready, laden with all sorts of cakes and other such delicacies. 

To his surprise, Renly recognised the horse that Loras led out of the stables and it wasn't because it was one he'd had at Storm's End. “I'll be damned. “He let out a low whistle. “If it isn't Willas' sand steed?”

“Don't say a word. “Loras muttered under his breath, tying the magnificent animal to a post in the yard. 

Renly laughed and seeing as the stables were empty risked catching Loras' wrist and reeling him back to him. “But I thought you told him he shoud have sent it back?”

“Well it's fast” Loras grumbled. “And I suppose it's not too bad looking either.”

Renly just grinned and kissed the top of his head. “Eating humble pie are we?”

Loras rolled his eyes. “”No. I'm just saying that I suppose there are worse horses I could have had.” He laughed. “Like that one of Tommas'. Come I'll show you.” He led Renly over to one of the barns, a warm cosy building with thick stone walls and a lot of straw inside it. It was usually used for brood mares and their young because it kept the wind and the rain out. 

“We had to put it in here because I thought a storm might be the last nail in the coffin for it.” He laughed as he unbolted the door and pulled it open. “Just look at her.”

Renly looked. She indeed was a bony creature with a straggly mane and tail. She probably had once been a bright bay but now she was a rather lacklustre dun colour. She was overall quite pitiful looking and yet she nuzzled at Loras' hand hopefully.

“And this is the only thing Tommas will ride.” Loras sighed, stroking her nose softly despite his disdainful tone. “She's not even a proper horse. I'd call her a pony but that would be an insult even to ponies.”

“And what's wrong with ponies?” Renly wanted to know. "I had a very nice pony when I was small." He decided not to add that he and Stannis had eaten her; he'd cried for days after. 

“There is everything wrong with ponies.” Loras insisted. “Unless you're a girl I guess, and then they're not so bad.” He glanced up on Renly. “You put me on a pony one time not long after I arrived. I was horrified.”

“Did I?” Renly shrugged, still thinking of the little white pony that he'd learnt to ride on.  “I doubt it was me. I never had anything to do with what horses we gave you. Sounds like the sort of thing Penrose would have done. You were very short to be fair.”

Loras laughed. “And yet I was a better rider at ten than you were at fourteen.” He passed Renly the reins of Willas' sand steed. “Here you can ride it. See if you like it. I think Willas is planning to give you the next one he breeds from it.”

Loras meanwhile helped himself to Renly's mare, tacking it up as quickly as he always did, not even pausing to look at what he was buckling up or undoing. He even seemed to know what length to shorten his stirrups to, something Renly couldn't have done without being already on the horse's back to see what length they ought to be. 

A stable boy saw to the sand steed and soon they were both mounted and ready to go, the food packed into saddle bags. For a change, they didn't head towards the sea and instead headed inland, towards the fields. They were often water logged and yet Renly reckoned the weather had been dry enough to risk it.

They rode at quite a slow pace considering that Renly was supposed to be seeing how fast Willas' horse could go, Loras telling him more about the tourneys he'd been to and who he'd unhorsed where in what order. Renly smiled as he listened to him speak. Usually it was the other way round and it was him chattering on whilst Loras listened, but when it came to tourneys, Loras never seemed to run out of fuel. It made a nice change, Renly thought, especially when Loras was talking about something which so evidently made him happy.

Eventually there was a gap in his tale of who unhorsed who though that was long enough for Renly to get a word in edgeways.

“Loras,” he grinned. “Penrose told me the small folk have given you a name already. "He laughed. "He was a little cynical but I like it. Suits a knight of Highgarden”

Loras laughed. “Well I deserve a name don't you think?” 

“Definitely. But why the Knight of Flowers? Is it just because you're a Tyrell?"

Loras laughed. “Partly. But it's mainly I think because I gave roses to the Florent daughters roses at Brightwater.”

Renly shook his head despairingly, chuckling under his breath. “You are such a flirt Loras.” It didn't surprise him in the slightest though. He remembered only too well how infuriated he'd been when Loras, reaching the age of twelve or thirteen or so, had decided that the best way to get Renly to notice him was to flirt with every girl he could get his hands on.

Loras shrugged. “They loved it. And the crowds loved it even more."

“But you told me you can't stand the Florent girls? You told me once you'd wish all the Florent children drown in a well.”

“Did I really say that?” Loras smirked. “Well I shan't take it back. I shall throw them some rose petals whilst they're drowning in the well then.” He laughed at Renly's shocked expression. “I'm joking Renly. I wouldn't let them drown. It would do too much to my reputation. Better to rescue them and have the small folk love me for my noble deeds don't you think?”

“You are truly incorrigeable Loras. And if you're not careful, you're going to find yourself behrothed within the month, to some poor girl who thinks you in love with her even though you'd rather throw her down a well” He grinned. “And where's my rose huh?”

“You don't get roses.” Loras laughed. “You get me.”

Renly smiled. “But I should like a rose too." Perhaps it was greedy of him, but anything Loras gave to anyone, he couldn't help but want too.

Loras laughed and undid the brooch from his cloak, the same one Renly had given him when he was knighted, a cloak that seemed to belong to Loras now. “Well here you go. It's not a real rose, but it'll have to do for the moment.”

Renly grinned and pinned it to the lining of his cloak where nobody would be able to see it. He imagined Loras would be a little disappointed he couldn't display it proudly and yet he supposed it was the best he could do. “Will I get a real one too?” He asked.

“If you come watch the next tourney I'm in then yes.” Loras smiled at him and pushed his horse into a trott, gesturing for Renly to follow him. 

Renly laughed. “I'd like that, seeing you put all those other knights to shame.”

Loras laughed. “Maybe I'll even unhorse the bloody kingslayer next time.” They'd come to a flat part now though and Loras was grinning at him widely. “Want to race me to that tree over there?” he asked. "Not that this mare of yours I'm on stands much of a chance."

Renly squinted and tried to see which tree Loras was pointing to. “That one over there?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“But there's a massive fence between here and there.” 

“So?” Loras raised an eyebrow. 

“You don't want to jump over it do you?”

“Why not.” He laughed. “Trust me, get that horse into a gallop and it'll jump.”

“I don't think my mare will though.” He glanced at his own horse that Loras was riding. “She'll refuse.” 

“She won't.” Loras said with his usual confidence. “And with that he was off, his curls flying out behind him wildly as he pushed the mare into a gallop. 

Renly wasn't quite sure he wanted to follow him and yet it didn't seem he had much choice. Whether it was just a strong willed horse or if it had not been trained properly yet, the sand steed was biting at the bit as soon as Loras was in front of him and there was no way Renly could keep it at a slow pace. He decided he might as well go thus with Loras' plan after all. Against his better judgement, he gave the horse its head, feeling the wind in his hair as he galloped after Loras. 

And boy the sand steed was fast, Renly thought as it charged forward. It caught up with Loras and his mare in a couple of strides, settling then into a pace that seemed easy for it and yet Renly could see that his mare next to him, not a bad horse herself, was going at full pelt just to keep up.

Renly wanted to close his eyes as the fence approached and yet he forced himself to keep them open, leaning forward instinctively as he'd always been taught to do as the horse took off underneath him. He couldn't see how much it cleared the fence by, but he was sure it must have been at least a foot. 

To his somewhat surprise, his mare cleared it too, though not by as much. Loras took her in a circle as soon as she was over it, slowing to a walk. Thankfully, the sand steed upon seeing her decided it was time to stop too for which Renly was grateful as he wasn't quite sure he'd have been able to stop it otherwise. He was a strong enough rider, but the sand steed didn't seem to really listen to any orders that involved it slowing down.

“It's a strong willed beast isn't it?” Renly panted when they'd slowed to a walk, leaning down to pat its neck. 

Loras grinned. “That's probably my fault. He's only three, a bit too young for the lists really. He's got a little too excited these last few weeks.” He laughed. “Willas will tell me I've ruined him.”

Renly laughed “And have you?”

Loras shrugged. “He'll make an excellent tourney horse. You need one that thrives on the excitement as much as you do. But he'll probably never be any good for anything else.” He shrugged again. “But what else would you want him for? Willas will never be able to ride him and he was never going to be a horse that you take out for a nice gentle ride anyway.”

Renly sighed and laughed. “He is fast, I'll grant you. He suits you. Hot headed and difficult to control."  
  
Loras merely rolled his eyes at him and laughed, leaning forward and sliding off his horse. "Come, stop insulting me and let's eat." He tied the mare to the tree and sat himself down in the long grass, unpacking the saddle bags. 

Renly joined him, making sure the sand steed was tied very securely a sturdy branch first. He could only imagine having to explain to Loras' brother that he'd lost his horse. The grass was only a little damp and Renly put down his cloak first to sit down on, rolling his eyes when Loras stole half of it, moving to sit in between Renly's legs and usually him as something to lean against.

It didn't take them long to eat through the food and Renly lounged back against the grass once they'd finished, Loras still between his legs, but on his front now with his arms leant against Renly's chest. He'd insisted on pulling Renly's shirt up and tracing patterns against his skin with a blade of particularly feathery grass. 

It felt quite nice, Renly supposed, if a little ticklish. He began to enjoy it rather more though when Loras' intentions became clear, brushing the blade of grass lower and lower across his stomach. Soon he dropped the piece of grass entirely, touching Renly with his fingers instead, unhooking the laces of his breeches purposefully.

Renly lay back and closed his eyes as Loras' fingers dipped lower. 

He opened them again when Loras nudged him, his eyes dark with desire. "Fuck me?" He whispered, rolling over to lie next to Renly.

Renly wished desperately he'd thought to bring the oil with them. As it was, he was tempted to give Loras what he wanted anyway and yet he couldn't help but remember how sore he'd made Loras the last time they'd done such a thing. 

He shook his head. "We can't. Remember how it hurt last time?"  
  
"I don't care." Loras tugged Renly's breeches down to his knees and wrapped his hand around Renly's cock. 

" _I_ care." Renly insisted, groaning slightly as Loras rubbed him harder. "We'll swap round is what we'll do. It's only fair. It was you who was made sore last time."  
  
Loras growled. "You wouldn't enjoy it. You don't relax enough." He nipped at Renly's neck. "Look, I don't care if it hurts, indulge me."

Renly still shook his head. 

"Fine then." Loras pushed Renly's head downwards. "Please?"  
  
Renly nodded headily and began unlacing Loras' breeches. "Can I try that thing you did to me?"  
  
Loras closed his eyes, pulling his own breeches open for him. "You can try if you like."  
  
"Is it difficult?" 

"It's not easy."

Renly thought he'd give it a go anyway and shuffled round to get between Loras' legs. Loras' hand caught him though and he turned back round. "What?" Renly asked impatiently, his breathing laboured. 

"I think it's easier this way round." He gripped Renly's shoulders and pushed him down next to him. And so Renly shrugged and stretched out beside him, resting his head on the inside of one of Loras' thighs as he took him into his mouth. It felt different doing it upside down to to speak and yet Loras was making the same sounds he usually did. Taking a deep breath, he took Loras deeper, trying to push him as far into his mouth as he could go.

He was starting to feel a little like he was about to choke when he felt Loras' hands in his hair, yanking his head back. "Slowly." He gasped. "Or you'll hurt yourself." He lifted his other leg up to give Renly more room, resting it on Renly's shoulder.

Renly tried again and yet this time he did choke, gasping for air and coughing. Loras' hands were in hair again, gentler this time. "I've had an idea." He shifted slightly, panting. "Can you bend a little more?" 

"Bend? I'm lying on my side?" 

"Well lie less straight then?" He didn't wait for Renly to try and decipher what he meant and he began moving Renly himself, pushing against Renly's chest until Renly realised that he'd wanted him to curl up slightly more. 

"What's this for?" He didn't have to wait for the answer though for Loras had lain back down, his hands wrapped tightly now around the base of his cock whilst his tongue was warm around the head. He gasped and laid his head back against  Loras' thigh and took Loras back into his mouth, thinking this was probably what Loras had intended.   
  
It was hard to breathe, having such pleasure and trying to give it at the same time, and yet the feeling of Loras cock in his mouth whilst his own was in Loras' was enough to make Renly's pulse race and his stomach tighten. 

His seed spilled almost embarrassingly quickly and he couldn't help but thrust rather violently into Loras' mouth in a way that he knew was quite inconsiderate. Loras followed soon after though and did exactly the same thing, making Renly gag slightly as he cried out incoherently. 

Neither of them moved for a long time, Renly using Loras' thighs as a pillow and panting heavily. Eventually though he sat up and grinned. "How ever did that occur to you?"  
  
Loras yawned and rolled over, pulling up his breeches and redoing the laces. "It was sort of obvious. All the whilst you had me in your mouth I was staring straight at your cock."

Renly laughed. "I see." He kissed Loras' hair and tried to make it a little more presentable, tidying the curls as much as he could. "Next time," He grinned. "We bring both that vial of oil, and a brush."

Loras smiled and yet looked a little bemused at the same time. "Agreed for the oil. But a brush?" He laughed. "A quick question for you. Have you actually ever seen me brush my hair when it's dry Renly?"

"I've never really thought about it." Renly admitted. Loras always seemed to be brushing his hair and yet now he thought about it Renly realised that it was usually when he'd just got out of the bath.

"Well I'll show you some time" Loras grinned, pulling Renly to his feet and leading him back to the horses, leaving Renly wondering quite what he meant by that. 

....................................

Loras' squire was waiting in the yard when they rode back in, sat on a bale of hay and evidently watching for their arrival. 

“Ser Cortnay said you'd gone riding Ser.” He said as they neared, taking the reins of Loras' horse while he dismounted. “Would you like me to put him away for you?” He looked a little confused when he saw it was an unfamiliar horse and glanced at Renly and then back again, evidently wondering why the lord of Storm's End was on a horse he knew to belong to his master.

“Would you like a go on the sand steed too Tommas?” Loras asked pleasantly, a wicked glint in his eyes. “He goes faster than Pommy.”

Renly assumed this must be the sad old creature in the barn. 

The boy shook his head. “No thank you Ser Loras. Pommy is just fine for me.”

Loras just sighed and . “She goes in there.” he said, pointing to the stable Renly's horse had. “And the tack hangs on the wall opposite.” He waited until Tommas had disappeared inside the stable before coming back over to Renly, leaning against the horse's flank and grinning up at him. "“Come on Renly, let's get your horse done too shall we?” He made to take the reins of the sand steed.

“What have we said about this?” Renly raised an eyebrow and climbed down. "I'll get one of the stable boys to do it."

Loras looked up at him hopefuly. “I'm only putting your horse away for you. And it's mine really anyway.” He smiled, tucking one of his wayward curls behind his ear. "And my replacement is arriving tomorrow. It would be nice, just one last time, to do things like this for you?"  
  
Renly sighed and let him take the reins. "Go on then." He glanced around to make sure Loras' squire was still in the stable before patting his arm. "If it makes you happy Loras."

Loras grinned and helped Renly dismount, before taking the sand steed back to its stable. 

"You sure Tommas is alright to put my horse away Loras?" Renly asked from the door, watching Loras as he worked. ” If you say he's frightened of large ones?" 

“He's fine handling them, it's only when I make him get on one that he seems to freeze with fear.” He laughed at Renly's exasperated expression. “But you'll be relieved to know I've been kind for once. Said he can keep Pommy until she dies or goes lame or something.”

Renly raised an eyebrow. “You call _that_ kind?”

Loras shrugged. “I didn't say that last bit out loud, so it sounded kind enough I guess.”

“You'll have to be kinder to my squire Loras.” Renly grinned. “I won't have him think any of my preferred companions cruel, especially you.”

Loras rolled his eyes, exiting the stable and bolting the door behind him. “I shall be kind enough. And if he is a runt I shall not tell him so to his face.” He smiled and kissed Renly full on the lips, seeming not to care that someone could be looking out of the castle windows or that Tommas could come out of the stable and any point.

Renly smiled once they parted, biting back his desire to point out that someone might have seen for fear of hurting Loras' feelings. "That's nice of you to agree to be kind to your replacement." he laughed. 

Loras grinned. "As I told you, I like doing nice things for you."


	70. Chapter 70

Tomorrow dawned bright and early and as Loras had promised him the night before, he dragged Renly out of bed at a decent hour despite Renly's adamance that he'd since thought better of it. Loras was ruthless though and so Renly found himself washed, dressed and up before even Penrose had taken to his study for the day. It was what Renly had hoped for, as he desperately needed to get the final arrangements for their departure to Kings Landing out of the way, hopefully before his squire arrived, and yet he found something inexplicably dismal about being out of bed so early.

As Penrose wasn't up yet, he started with Brella and she agreed that she would run his household in Kings Landing, taking with her several women from the kitchens. Between them, they would then take charge of the chambermaids and kitchen girls that Renly's predecessor had left behind. This pleased Renly, for whilst he got on well enough with new people, it would be pleasant too to have a few familiar faces around. Brella too would neither talk nor gossip if he and Loras were not as successful at keeping things quiet as he hoped. 

Penrose appeared then and whilst he seemed surprised to see Renly up and about so early, he seemed happy enough to go through the arrangements with him. They went to his study where they then finalised the list of those who would be accompanying Renly in his retinue. They numbered thirty eight in total and Renly was glad that the Master of Law's quarters were decently large. All the men would be given rooms surrounding his own and he was to have his own dining chambers and kitchens too, with servants quarters attached.

The only thing left thus was to appoint a captain to his guard, something he and Loras discussed over lunch in the solar, Loras turning his nose up at every possible candidate. As far as Renly was concerned, there were a dozen decent men in his escort, all of which Renly would be more than happy to have fill the position. Eventually though, in spite of Loras' lack of co-operation, Renly narrowed it down to Ser Gladden and Ser Guyard, both of which Loras thought unsuitable.

“But why?” Renly pressed, spreading his bread thick with butter. “They're both skilled, reliable, loyal even.”

Loras snorted disdainfully. “Ser Gladden gets into his cups at every possible occasion and Ser Guyard's head won't be able to fit through doorways if you make him captain of your guard.”

Renly grinned. “And yours can?” He had the sneaky suspicion Loras was a little miffed he couldn't fill the position himself. He didn't seem in a particularly good mood this afternoon and every sugggestion of Renly's seemed to personally offend him. 

Loras rolled his eyes. “That's entirely irrelevant.” He pushed his food around his plate a little, looking down at it as if the food too irritated him. 

Renly laughed. “Then who would you suggest? Elighten me.”

Loras shrugged. “I don't know? You could send for Ser Balon from Stonehelm, he's supposed to be very good.”

“Ser Guyard's very good.”

“He's alright I guess.”

“I've heard he's  _almost_  as good as you.” Renly teased, grinning at him. 

Loras looked horrified. “Well whoever told you that was lying.”

Renly laughed and ruffled Loras' hair. “I'm pulling your leg Loras.” He stood up and kissed his curls. “I'll see this evening at dinner, after I've talked to Ser Guyard and received my squire. If all goes well, we'll leave tonight.” He made for the door.

Loras made an indignant noise and tipped his head back, a clear request for Renly to say a better goodbye to him and so Renly came back to his side, bending to kiss him properly. He laughed as Loras' arms then snaked round his waist, a definite attempt on Loras' part to get him to stay there. He grinned. “As lovely as you are Loras, I really must go now.” He laughed into Loras' hair and batted away Loras' hands from his waist. "I shall see you later.”

Loras sighed and dropped his hands to his sides. “Alright, later then.” He rolled his eyes slightly. 

Renly grinned at him and went on his way, stopping a page as he passed and asking him to send Ser Guyard to him.

Ser Guyard took very little time to arrive and he seemed proud that Renly had summoned him personallyy, taking a seat opposite Renly with a flourish. His chest puffed up again once he understood what Renly had wanted for and there was never any doubt whether over he would be accepting the position. 

Renly was just informing him of what his duties would be once they got to Kings Landing when there was a knock on the door and Edric Storm poked his head round, looking a little nervous when he saw Renly had company.

“Lord Renly.” he started and Renly had to chuckle for usually he was Uncle Renly to Edric. “Ser Cortnay sent me to tell you your squire has arrived.”

Renly grinned. “Thank you.” He stood. “Ser Guyard, would you be opposed to walking and talking?” He opened the door and let Ser Guyard pass. 

"You're having a new squire, my lord?" Ser Guyard asked as they carried on down the corridor. 

"Yes, one of my cousins."  
  
"On your mother's side my lord?" 

"Yes, an Estermont" Renly resisted the urge to tell him no, it was on his father's side and that it was the Beggar King who was coming to squire for him. He didn't really know why Ser Guyard had bothered to clarify that the cousin was on his mother's side.It was well known that he had almost no relatives on the other. Jaime Lannister had put a sword through the back of his father's only living cousin and Robert had spent a good part of a year doing his best to put swords through the rest, something, as Prince Oberyn so well pointed out, that Tywin Lannister had aided him greatly in. 

Renly sighed as Ser Guyard nodded eagerly. He rather wished he did have cousins on the Baratheon side. His father had had no brothers or sisters, surely a mistake, Renly thought, on his grandfather and grandmother's part as it was a well known fact that having only one heir was risky. He supposed it was fortunate though that his father had at least married and had several sons before perishing at sea. Otherwise that would have been the end to the Baratheon line and Renly wasn't sure what would have happened then. He assumed the castle would have gone to to the Targaryens, a rather miserable prospect. 

Ser Guyard left him in the entrance hall and Renly made his way out of the castle doors. From the top of the steps he could see the Estermont banners just beyond the outer gates, the dark sea turtles bright against their background of pale green. Renly had always rather liked the Estermont sigil when he was a child, thinking sea turtles rather exciting. Now though, he thought it might be a little bit underwhelming to be represented by a turtle. The Lannister's had lions, the Targaryens' dragons, the Starks' wolves, the Baratheons' stags, and the Estermonts had turtles. It was hardly an animal that inspired terror. 

He was just wondering whether Loras thought roses rather lacking in terror-inspring qualities when to his surprise he bumped straight into Loras himself at the bottom of the stairs, almost knocking him over.

“What are you doing here?” Renly asked suspiciously, laughing as Loras tried to get his balance back. "I thought you'd be in the training yard with Tommas." He had an inkling that Loras was hanging around deliberately, curious to see what the boy who would replace him was like. Not that this was very likely but Renly didn't think Loras would be able to bear it if Renly's new squire turned out to be as talented as him. He probably wouldn't be too fond either if the boy was uncommonly comely. 

"I was." Loras glanced around. "I'm just... I'm on my way to.." He trailed off, seemingly at a loss for quite what he was on his way to. 

"Yes?" Renly grinned. "Please continue." 

“Fine.” Loras admitted, rolling his eyes. “I wanted to see your new squire, see how much of a runt he is.”

Renly laughed. “There's not going to be anything wrong with him.” He had seen Alyn Estermont on his tour of the Stormlands and he remembered him as a nice boy who hadn't been neither shy nor awkward. 

“Well he has big shoes to fill either way." Loras stepped to Renly's side, so close that their fingers were almost touching. Renly was inclined to agree there. Loras had been more talented than could have been expected and they'd got on better than anybody could have imagined, so much so that Penrose had been jesting that they were joined at the hip before the first year was out. 

They were approaching now, Penrose riding alongside them as they made their way up the towards the inner gates.

They dismounted in the courtyard and Renly quickly spotted Alyn amongst them, thinking he vaguely remembered what he looked like.

And indeed there seemed to be a reason nobody had taken him yet as a squire, Renly had to admit as he watched him from his vantage point. He clearly wasn't a runt and yet _clumsy_ was not the word for Alyn Estermont. He almost fell off his horse when dismounting, catching his boot ungainly in the stirrup, and then tripped over his feet twice on his way up across the courtyard.

What struck Renly most though that he was very very tall. He was not quite yet thirteen and yet he was probably already close to six foot. Renly had always supposed that he got his height from his father who he'd known to be a man of tall stature and yet looking at Alyn Estermont, he supposed it equally could have been from his mother's side. Alyn was easily taller than Loras and Renly wondered exactly how Loras was going to take that. 

Loras laughed beside him though. “ _That_ ” he smirked. “That is going to be your new squire?”

“You promised you wouldn't be cruel Loras.” Renly chided. “Not everyone can be like you.”

“I'm not being cruel.” Loras snorted. “Just realistic.”

Renly raised an eyebrow. “He's probably just in that stage, you know when you're growing a lot very quickly? He's not much younger than you. Feel some sympathy.” He laughed, thinking he might test the water. “Is it because he's taller than you?" He grinned. "Feeling threatened are we Loras?”

“Perhaps.” Renly could hear the smirk in Loras' voice. “And so? Am I going to be replaced in other areas too then?”

Renly studied the boy as he got closer. He would probably grow into a rather attractive young man but right now he he was thin and lanky and with that poor complexion some boys and young men seemed to be cursed with. He didn't want to say that out loud though and so he took a different tack. “I was never going to replace you Loras.” He laughed and smiled widely at him.

Loras rolled his eyes, quite clearly aware that Renly had evaded the real question. He grinned all the same though. “I'll leave you two to get aquainted then shall I?” And with that he patted Renly condescendingly on the shoulder and headed back in the direction of the training yard, his curiosity seemingly satisfied. 

Renly watched him leave fondly before turning back to the party who had now started coming up the path towards him. 

“Lord Renly,” The boy said politely as he approached and Renly was pleased to see he still had a nice manner even if he didn't have much co-ordination.

It was on the tip of his tongue to tell him to drop the title and call him Renly and yet he resisted. He was determined to do a better job with Alyn than he had with Loras. For whilst Loras was the perfect tourney knight, that had had little to do with Renly and there was a whole of range of things he'd failed to teach Loras anything at all about, like respect, or how to control his temper. Renly of course would have Loras no other way now and yet he was determined to do well by Alyn and teach him the things he needed to know rather than just making a companion of him.

He did grin though and lay his hand on the boy's shoulder, guiding him up the steps. They walked up to the castle together and Renly went through all the niceties, asking after his family and Greenstone. The boy for his part made conversation easily and Renly imagined that they would probably get on rather well. He certainly knew his social graces even if he was far from graceful.

He handed him over to Brella when they were inside though, sending him off to get some lunch before he'd join in with the squires for the afternoon.

Penrose was more optimistic than Loras had been, sitting down with Renly whilst Alyn was eating.

“I know he seems a little clumsy but he'll learn” He said. “He'll grow into his height eventually." 

Renly laughed. "You think?"

Penrose raised a eyebrow. "You should have seen yourself at eleven or twelve. You were too tall for your own good too. You were never clumsy, but elegant wasn't a word I'd have ascribed to you either." 

Renly grinned. "And I'm elegant now am I?"  
  
"Very." Penrose smiled. "Give him a try."

….............................

They headed straight down to the training yard after Alyn had had his lunch, Loras accompanying Renly for apparently he wouldn't miss this for the world.

Alyn had brought a sword with him and Renly was pleased to see that it seemed a decent one if on the plain side. He seemed enthusiastic and didn't seem to mind either that he towered over all of the other squires there. Indeed, even the master at arms had to look up to speak to him. He seemed very obliging though and did everything the master at arms told him to, putting himself in a pair with one of the Mistwood boys. 

The master-at-arms then walked among them, correcting their grip and their stance. Of course only Loras' had both more or less correct and Renly rolled his eyes as Loras smiled smugly beside him. Evidently he'd wasted no time in making sure Tommas Fossoway knew the basics. 

Renly waited until the master at arms had them practising in pairs before walking over to him, leaving Loras watching from the walls.

“So?” Renly raised an eyebrow and waited.

The master at arms sighed and glanced over to Alyn Estermont. “You've gone from one extreme to the other my lord. Tyrell was so good I had little to teach him and this one's so lacking in talent, I could spend years just teaching him the basics.”

Renly laughed. “He can't be that bad. I'll just have to perservere. Surely he'll get there eventually?”

“Allow me to speak my mind my lord?”

Renly grinned. “He loved it when people started conversations like this. “Granted.”

“Send him back to Greenstone. It'd be different if you were still here, but the master at arms in the Red Keep won't have any time for him and with you busy as you will be on the small council, I dare say you'll only be wasting your time trying to make a knight of him.”

Renly shrugged. “I'll find someone to teach him while I'm busy.” He was not short of men hoping to impress him. And the thought of sending the poor boy back just made him cringe. He couldn't help but think of poor Piggy Loras had told him about, being a page at the arbour and yet being sent back after little more than two months. That was embarrassing in itself and yet to be sent back after only an afternoon, that was something Renly could do to no twelve year old.

The master of arms snorted. “No knight worth his salt will bother with him, even for you my lord.” 

Renly just laughed and shrugged again, leaving him to get back on with his training. He rather thought that the master at arms underestimated quite how willing people were to do favours for him. He returned to Loras at the edge of the training yard.  

“Loras?”

“Yes?” Loras peered at him suspiciously, tearing his eyes away from the squires. 

Renly sighed. “Why do you assume I'm about to ask you for something?”

Loras laughed and raised an eyebrow. “Well are you?”

"Well yes, but that's beside the point.”

“Is it?” Loras grinned up at him as if he thought otherwise. 

“Yes.” Renly grinned back. He ran a hand through his hair. “What was it I came to ask you again?”

Loras shrugged. “Search me.”

“Oh I remember,” He paused. “When I take Alyn to Kings Landing, will you well help me out a bit with him? Just when I'm busy."

“No.” Loras shook his head and leant back against the wall. 

“Why not?”

Loras raised an eyebrow and glanced back to the squires. “It'd be a waste of my time. Like trying to teach a pig to fly.”

Renly grinned. “Please?”

“I've got plenty to do without that one on my plate.”

Renly leant in as close as he dared and put his hand on Loras' arm. “For me?”

Loras hesitated for a moment and Renly resisted the urge to grin triumphantly.

“Think of it as a challenge.” Renly pressed. “The master at arms said that only the very best of knights would be able to teach him anything.” That wasn't quite what the master at arms had said and yet Renly saw no harm in stroking Loras' ego a little. 

Loras still didn't seem convinced though and he glanced again back to the training yard, watching intently for a few moments. “I'll think about it." Loras said eventually. "Now come, if you want to leave tonight, we've a lot to do."

........................

They left that evening as Renly had planned to and covered good ground before they finally stopped at an inn for the night. It was one of the nicer ones in the Stormlands and Renly made sure Alyn was settled in his rooms before taking off to his own for the night. The boy had ridden beside Renly throughout the evening and Renly had found him very obliging, with nice manners and a good sense of humour. He'd been very helpful at dinner too, pouring Renly's wine for him and all in all being more of a proper squire than Loras had ever been who always would have been better described as a companion who did occasional favours for him. Renly supposed this was to be expected though. He'd only just turned fourteen when Loras had been sent to him and he'd been adamant almost from the beginning that Loras was going to be a friend for him and not a high-born servant. 

Renly couldn't help but feel tired beyond belief as he climbed the stairs to his own rooms and yet he was pleased but not surprised to see that when he entered a candle was lit and Loras was stretched out across the bed, a piece of parchment in front of him and a quill in his hand.

He glanced around when Renly entered and smiled before turning back to his letter. Renly couldn't help but stand and watch him for a few moments before he got ready for bed, smiling as Loras bit down on his lower lip as he evidently thought about what he was writing. He was already dressed for bed, which Renly reckoned either meant the sheets were particularly scratchy or that he was too tired to want to do anything other than sleep tonight as it was very rare indeed that Loras wore anything to bed, to Renly's immense pleasure usually sleeping naked. 

Eventually though, Renly found himself yawning and had to tear his eyes away from Loras and dress himself for bed. He supposed now that he had a squire he could have called Alyn to help him with this arduous task and yet he didn't imagine Loras would be all too pleased about that.

“You writing to Margaery?” Renly asked, setting himself down beside him when he was changed and leaning over Loras' shoulder to see if he could spot his name on the page. Loras never seemed to mind Renly reading over his shoulder and yet Renly suspected that if he ever did want to complain to his sister about just how much Renly had irritated him that day then he'd probably have the sense not to write it when Renly was around. 

Loras nodded, placing the quill carefully on the parchment before twisting round to kiss him. “So?” Loras asked. “How do you find the Estermont boy?”

Renly laughed and stretched out across the bed. “Pleasant. I like him very much.”

"DId you like me very much when I first arrived?” Loras had picked the quill back up and had continued writing in his typical elegant hand. 

Renly smiled. “Yes. You were most entertaining.” He laughed. “And you were the first real friend I had.” And perhaps the only one still, Renly thought wryly, wondering if all the men who travelled with him that he got on very well with counted.

Loras pushed the parchment aside this time, rolling over to face him. “We're still friends I'd hope.”

Renly grinned. “I've no idea." He laughed. "What are we Loras? Lovers? Friends and lovers both?”

Loras shrugged. “I don't want to be your lover. I don't like that word. It makes it sound like there's something sordid about what we do.”

Renly resisted the urge to smirk and tell him that a lot of what they did was very very sordid indeed, wonderfully so. Instead, he just smiled and brushed the curls from Loras' face. “What word would you like then Loras?”

“I don't know?” Loras rested his head against Renly's shoulder. “Something nicer sounding.” He laughed softly, stretching out beside him. “Do you ever just wish Renly, that I'd been a lady and you could just wed me and be done with it?”

Renly chuckled. He thought that was a rather odd question and one that was very unlike Loras to ask. He grinned. “Some lady you'd make. I can't imagine you with a needle and thread or a babe clinging round your neck.”

“It would be rather dull wouldn't it?” Loras laughed. “But there would be nice things too. You could give me your cloak, properly, with people watching and thinking we made a pretty pair.”

Renly grinned. “We do make a pretty pair.”

Loras smiled wryly. “We do but nobody shall ever tell us so.”

Renly sighed. “I guess not.” He curled a little closer to Loras, trying not to think too much about that. It was one of those things that he knew Loras would have liked, to be able to stand freely beside each other without anyone thinking ill of them. He laughed. "I dare say we wouldn't get on so well if you were a woman. I've never found them particularly enticing." He laughed. "And anyway, if I wanted a girl who was just like you, I'd marry your sister."  
  
Loras laughed. "I guess in an ideal world then that you'd have found ladies inviting and I would have been a lady." He grinned. "A very very bored one."

Renly smiled. "I suppose yes." He laughed. "Or the other way around I guess. Though I don't think I'd much like being a lady either."

Loras grinned. “There'd be a lot of things we couldn't do if one of us were a woman.”

Renly chuckled and nuzzled his neck. “Indeed.” He bit the soft skin softly, smiling when he saw Loras' eyelids flutter close.

“What do you reckon it feels like Renly? Making love to a woman?” Loras stretched out beneath Renly a little, opening his eyes and regarding him curiously. 

Renly shrugged. “I've no idea. I always assumed it would be sort of similar to how it feels with you but more slippery I guess. Easier too probably.” He laughed. “Perhaps one day, one of us shall find out and we can tell the other.” He tried not to think about that too much either. He could imagine himself with a wife, a faceless lady who would bear his children and stand with him on the steps of Storm's End, and yet imagining himself taking anyone to bed aside from Loras made him feel a little lost.

Loras wrinkled his nose. “I shouldn't imagine it'll be me. I doubt I'll ever take a wife.”

“Not even when I have one." Renly sighed and kissed his nose. "Shouldn't you be terribly lonely?” He couldn't imagine anything worse than having nobody except servants to look after oneself in old age and if you didn't have children, that seemed a constant possibility. 

“Why should I be lonely?” Loras looked puzzled. “I'll have you.”

Renly smiled. “Of course you'll have me. You'll always have me. But I'll most likely come back here when there's a Lady Baratheon in Storm's End again. And your place shall always be in Highgarden.”

Loras cocked his head slightly. “My place is by your side." He rolled over so that he was on top of Renly. "And so when, and if, you come back here, I shall come too.” He laughed. “I could replace Ser Guyard as the captain of your guard.”

Renly grinned. It seemed thus that his suspicions that Loras would have rather liked to fill the position himself had been correct. He laughed. “Well when you've won all the tourneys you care too, you can if you like." He ran his hands up Loras' side. "It would a bit of a shame though to see you as a mere guard. Not when you'll be the most famous knight in the kingdoms by then and every child in Westeros shall know your name.”

Loras raised an eyebrow and smirked down at him. “I'd be your chambermaid if that was the only way I could stay with you. So stop your whining.”

Renly laughed. Even though he knew Loras was joking, he couldn't help imagining Loras dressed as the maids were back in Storm's End. He imagined Loras' siblings, Garlan in particular, would pay good coin to see that. A kitchen wench would have been better though, Renly thought, those girls wore frilly pinafores with puffy gathered sleeves. He could just see Loras now, covered in flour and brandishing a rolling pin instead of a lance. 

Loras grinned. “Otherwise I could be the Master at Arms or something. Or your daughters' sworn shield if you'd have me.” He laughed and prodded Renly accusingly in the ribs. "And your sons' too if they turn out as unwilling to go to the training yard as you are."

Renly laughed. “My sons will be perfect warriors." He smiled and nudged Loras off him, pulling him close into his side instead. "Especially perfect if they have you to teach them." 

Loras just smiled at that and they lay in silence for a while, Renly lost in imaginings of returning someday to Storm's End after he'd fixed the realm's problems as Master of Laws. Somehow the faceless wife didn't seem such an unsettling presence now that he knew he'd have Loras at his side. He imagined that Mace Tyrell wouldn't be so pleased at seeing his favourite son leave Highgarden for seemingly little reason and yet then again, he supposed Loras' father wouldn't live forever. Eventually he would be replaced by Willas, and Willas might find the idea a little less offensive than his father would. 

“And I'll help you with your squire if you like." Loras said after a while, his voice rather quiet as it always was whenever he went back on a decision he'd already made, something that happened but rarely. He wriggled out of Renly's grip, leaning over to blow out the candle and then getting into bed. 

"You will?" Renly climbed beneath the covers beside him. He hadn't really expected Loras to change his mind over Alyn. Getting Loras to change his mind was like willing the wind to change direction usually.   
  
He felt Loras shrug. "You'll find I do most things you ask of me." He wrapped his arms around Renly's chest and leant up to kiss him goodnight. 


	71. Chapter 71

They arrived in Kings Landing early one morning, riding up to Aegon's Hill just as the sun had finished rising. Guards appeared almost immediately to show Renly to his chambers whilst Loras and his men waited outside for someone to take them to theirs. For the briefest of seconds Loras looked a little lost as he stood on the steps and Renly suddenly wondered whether encouraging Loras to leave Highgarden and come here with him was one of the most selfish things he'd done yet in his eighteen years. 

Renly didn't have time to dwell on it though for he was being led up the steps to his rooms almost instantaneously, several gold cloaks at his side. His new rooms were to be in between Traitor's Walk and Robert's own royal apartments, presumably because as Master of Laws, most of the business he would be carrying out would involve those unfortunate individuals who were confined on the top floor of Traitor's Walk or the even more unfortunate ones who were confined below, in the depths of the black cells.

He wasn't overly sure though that Robert expected him to actually _do_ much as Master of Laws. Robert's reign had been a peaceful one so far and there were hardly any large disputes that he would need to deal with. It was only the high-born prisoners too that ever got access to trials and appeals and as far as Renly knew, the top cells of Traitor's Walk had been virtually empty for years. Robert had no high-born captives, for despite his quick temper, he was at heart rather forgiving. He'd pardoned scores of people after his rebellion and very few had chosen to pick a quarrel with him since, not when Robert's reign was infinitely more pleasant than the Mad King's before him.

As such, Renly had no real idea what he'd actually be doing on a daily basis. Most likely, he'd probably do little more than rifle through old books every now and again to find a precedent for some law or tax Robert fancied passing and then spend the rest of his time organising Robert's tourneys for him. He supposed though that he was going to find out rather quickly. He had, after all, a small council meeting tomorrow he thought.

He found that his rooms were to his taste, his instructions having been followed well. The furniture was all in rich dark woods, polished to a beautiful shine and in the height of fashion. The rugs too were lovely, thick and soft underfoot and complimenting nicely the elaborate tapestries that hung on the walls. All in all, Renly was pleased.

As interested as he was though in how his rooms had been furnished, what interested him more right now was the layout. His rooms were on the first floor and his kitchens and serving quarters on the ground, the two joined by a grand staircase made out of red stone, though of course both floors could also be accessed quite separately from the main corridors of the Red Keep. There was another staircase though and it was this one that interested Renly. It was a tight spiral staircase which led from the main corridors on the bottom floor of the Red Keep to a thin passage that ran parallel to the rooms on his floor. It had been built so that the servants could tend to the rooms of their master without being seen. And yet whilst his predecessor had apparently too been of the belief that servants shouldn't be seen nor heard, Renly thought it was a ridiculous idea. The spiral staircase was impractical for lugging dishes or linen up and down and nowadays it was even fashionable for one's servants to be seen, so that guests could see how many you could afford to employ.

And so he'd ordered this staircase taken out of use, locked doors placed at either end, the keys to which he was going to share between Loras and himself. It would still mean that Loras had to brave the corridors of the Red Keep to come to his chambers at night, but he wouldn't then have to walk past all Renly's guards and retinue. It wasn't a solution so to speak, but Renly thought it was better than nothing.

That on his mind, he beckoned his squire to him. All the locks had been changed when his predecessor had left and yet Renly wasn't stupid enough to think that copies hadn't been made and weren't sitting in countless pockets even as he spoke.

"Alyn." He laid a hand on the boy's shoulder. “I should like you to find a locksmith for me." He grinned. "I want all the locks on the main doors changed, two copies made of each and all given to me by this evening if possible.”

The boy nodded obligingly and disappeared out of the door. Renly didn't imagine that changing the locks would do enough to prevent people snooping around in his apartments, but he figured it would at least slow down any potential spies. There was no harm having a go anyway.

He left Alyn to handle that, he seemed competent enough not to do anything wrong, and instead took himself off to Traitor's Walk. To his great disgust, one of the main people he would be forced to work with as Master of Laws with was Ilyn Payne. Not only did Renly find his mere presence unsettling, he couldn't help but question how easy it was going to be to work with someone who was both mute and illiterate. And alongside working with Janos Slynt, a man Renly had never met but who everyone had told him was unpleasant, Renly couldn't help but feel a little sorry for himself.

He supposed it was better to get meeting with Ilyn Payne out of the way though. Once he'd been shown around the gaols then he imagined that he would be able to leave most of the running of the dungeons to the King's Justice and his Chief Gaoler seeing as the Master of Laws only really dealt with the more high born prisoners.

Thankfully, the Chief Gaoler did have a tongue and he was more than happy to show Renly around Traitor's Walk with Ilyn Payne. He was a surprisingly cheerful man for someone who worked in a gaol and Renly found that it was easy enough to make conversation with him rather than stare at the silent pock-marked face of Ilyn Payne. They showed him round all of the levels save the bottom, for as the Chief Gaoler pleasantly informed him, nobody should venture down there unless they wanted to be driven mad by what they saw.

They appeared to have the prisons in good order though, which Renly was grateful for. He didn't much fancy having to spend any more time among the black cells than he really had to.

He came back to his rooms after his tour and found Alyn waiting for him in his chambers with a pile of keys. Renly was pleased; the locksmith had been quicker than he had hoped. It also proved that the boy was competent. 

"The king wishes to see you my lord." Alyn told him as he handed him the keys. "He sent one of his squires to fetch you about an hour ago. Said for you to go to his grace's apartments as soon as you were back."

Renly grinned. "I look forward to it." He sat down at the table though and sifted through the keys, reading the piece of parchment Alyn gave him that told him which one was which. He sorted through them then, giving a copy of most to Brella and himself before separating the ones that were for Loras. He'd have Alyn deliver those this afternoon, and he would make sure too to stuff the envelope with parchment so that his squire wouldn't know what he was delivering.

Making sure his Alyn wasn't looking, he wrote a quick note for Loras explaining which doors the keys unlocked, before indeed padding the envelope with paper and slipping the key inside. He had initially thought to tell Loras not to come to his chambers this first night, just to be on the safe side, but when it came down to it, Renly couldn't bear to tell Loras he wasn't allowed to. Loras would no doubt interpret such a note as Renly saying he didn't want him that night. He did make sure though to expressly say that Loras would have to be gone before there was any chance of Alyn coming to wake him up in the morning, a shame, Renly thought, as he greatly enjoyed waking up next to Loras. It was one of those things though that just needed to be done.

After he'd sealed the envelope, he then wrote to Janos Slynt, introducing himself and suggesting they meet over dinner to discuss how they were to work together. From what Jon Arryn had told him, Slynt appeared to be a proud, aspiring sort of man, and Renly figured that flattery would be the best way to approach him. He would give him a lavish dinner and try to work out just how the man was going about his corrupt practices from there.

He then gave both the envelopes to Alyn and went off to find Robert.

He found him easily. He was sitting in his solar drinking with who Renly thought he recognised as Thoros of Myr from the red robes. He excused himself though when Renly arrived and Renly took his newly vacated seat, wishing a little that the red priest had stayed for he was rumoured to be good company.

Robert took a long drink from his wine. "You took your bloody time."

Renly grinned. "Me and Ilyn Payne got talking."

Robert snorted and called for his squire to pour Renly a glass of wine. “So, how was Dorne?”

“Fine." Renly shrugged. " I dare say your master of whispers is only stirring things unnecessarily when he says Dorne is conspiring or that they are not loyal to the crown.” Indeed, for all that Renly's trip there had been uncomfortable, he hadn't got wind of anything that suggested Dorne were not happy with the crown. Aside of course for the business there had been about Elia and Gregor Clegane, a matter Renly was tentatively going to try and ask Robert about as soon as he got a chance.

“Hmmm.” Robert merely nodded.

“There is one thing though that I've been asked to ask you about.” Renly ventured, thinking he would test the water.

Robert grunted which Renly supposed was permission to speak.

He took a deep breath. “Prince Oberyn wishes to see justice for the rape and murder of his sister.” He said calmly, deliberately making no mention of the Targaryens. He imagined that Dorne wished to see justice for Elia's children too but he knew he'd have better luck if he focused only on the dornish princess.

Robert wasn't fooled though. A vein in his forehead began to throb and he leant forward on his chair, the red wine staining his beard and making him look like a rabid animal. “If you think I'm going to start rounding up men for taking care of those damned Targaryens, then you're more of a fool than I ever thought.”

Renly sighed. He rather preferred it when it was Stannis that Robert was rounding on, not himself. He took a deep breath though and continued. “I didn't mention the Targaryens. I said Princess Elia.”

“Rhaegar's whore?" Robert slammed his cup back down on the table. "I did her a favour when I caved Rhaegar's breastplate in.”

“Perhaps.” Renly sighed. “But I dare say that Gregor Clegane didn't do her much of a favour.”

Robert groaned slightly and for a moment Renly wondered whether they might be getting somewhere. “That was... _messy_ I admit. But if Dorne thinks I gave those bloody orders then they-”

Renly raised his eyebrow and didn't let him finish. “-the whole kingdom knows who gave those orders Robert. But that's not what we're talking about. If you want to placate Dorne, then trial Gregor Clegane, if only as a show of good faith.”

Robert grunted. “Tywin wouldn't have it. His bannerman. Bloody useful he is to that little golden shit. Does all his dirty work without getting his hands stained.”

Renly shrugged. “Don't tell me you're afraid of Tywin Lannister?” He laughed. 

Robert however was not amused. “Watch your tongue boy.” Robert snapped. “If you weren't my brother, I'd have your tongue for that."

Renly sighed. “My apologies your grace." The title made Robert roll his eyes and so Renly reckoned Robert wasn't about to have his tongue just yet. "I just don't see why everything the crown does has to be in Tywin Lannister's best interests.”

“Because he pays for everything that's why. And if you think I'm going to give up my tourneys and my hunts just so Dorne can see the mountain hanged, then you're sorely mistaken.”

“There are others you could borrow off.” Renly shrugged. “Borrow from Highgarden, Hightower even.” He laughed. “You could get rid of Stannis and replace him with Paxter Redwyne. The Arbour has a pretty penny or two, and think, you'd never have to _buy_ wine again." He grinned. "Nice ships too.”

Robert grunted in amusement. “Our brother's a sour old thing. But having him around means Jon and him can bore each other instead of me.” He went back to his wine. “Speaking of coin, when are you going to get yourself married?" He grunted. “When you do, make sure her father's rich." He ran a hand over his bristly beard. "Shame the only daughter of the head of the Iron bank is already married to some foreign prince. I could have given them you instead of the payments they want.”

Renly raised an eyebrow. He supposed he hadn't been wrong when he assumed that at some point Robert would want to marry him off to suit his own purposes. He didn't imagine that the Iron Bank however would care much for marriage unions with the Crown. They'd want their payments anyway. Renly laughed. “You should have had more daughters Robert. Princesses to sell over the narrow sea.”

Robert laughed gruffly. “Well that would be bloody likely the way Cersei guards her cunt.”

Renly laughed, hoping Robert didn't notice how hollow it sounded. The more he spoke to Robert, the more it became clear that despite his distaste for his golden haired friends, Robert was completely in the Lannisters' pocket. He had already a Lannister for his wife and for his squires, and lord Tywin didn't even seem content to leave it at that. The more money Tywin lent to him, the more Robert was obligated to him, unwilling to displease him.

Frowning, Renly ran through the small council in his mind, wondering if any of those were linked too to the Lannisters. He didn't need to worry about Stannis, Jon Arryn or Ser Barristan, but the other three he was unsure of. He had an inkling lord Baelish had been given his position by Jon Arryn and so he doubted that he was in the Lannister's service either. Pycelle on the other hand, he knew to be a Lannister man through and through and yet the old maester was so feeble, Renly didn't really see any point trying to get rid of him. That left only Varys and Renly reckoned he could spend a whole year trying to work out who the eunuch was working for and still come up blank.

The real problem, Renly thought, was Cersei and the vast hoards of her father's money that came with her. He grinned. "You should change the law Robert. Have yourself two wives." With all the disturbing practices the Targaryen kings had had, Renly was sure he could find a precedent for it. In fact, now he thought about it, he realised he already knew well a precedent for it, a rather famous one at that. Aegon the conqueror of course had wed both his sisters.

Robert grunted. “Who needs wives when you've got whores.” He grinned. “When you turn eight and ten, I shall make a present of one to you. I've the best taste and I know them all. What do you like Renly? Blondes, brunettes? Foreign beauties?”

Renly laughed and didn't bother to point out that Robert was one year out in keeping track of his name days. “I shouldn't bother Robert. I'm rather fussy.”

“Well looking like us, you can afford to be.” He clapped Renly on the shoulder.

Renly sighed. He wondered whether Robert had looked in the mirror lately.

“Did you take a fancy to that Dornish princesses in the end?” Robert asked. "She's supposed to be comely too."

Renly laughed. “Definitely not.” He could go into details about why not and yet he'd planned on keeping this visit short.

Robert laughed too. “Perhaps it's for the best brother. You've a too gentle hand, would have been a struggle to keep that one at her sewing. Randy little buggers those dornish.” He grunted. "What about that Tyrell lass then? He pushed himself up in his chair and looked interested for once. “You were there for a bloody long time. I thought you might be courting her.”

Renly could only laugh at that. It had never occurred to him that people would assume it was Margaery who had captured his attentions. “I don't think so Robert. I don't think I should like to take a wife for some time yet.”

“Well there must be someone who could tempt you.” Robert said gruffly. He cast around as if the names of high born women were written on the tapestries. "Who else is there you could have? Ned's got two daughters. You could have one of them. The one that Joff doesn't want.”

Renly tried not to grimace. The thought of taking Joffrey's leftovers made him shudder.

Robert thought then roared with laughter all of a sudden. “That Balon Greyjoy, or should I say _King of the Iron Island,_ he's got himself a daughter.” He boomed with laughter. “A Saltwife of your own eh Renly?”

Renly grinned. This one he could handle as it was clearly a joke. Robert would have a fit if Renly actually wanted to marry anything related to Balon Greyjoy. Still, he changed the subject. “Still thinking of a Stark girl for Joffrey then?”

“Yeah.” Robert grunted. “It's about time me and Ned joined our houses. It's how it always should have been.” He looked lost in memories for a few moments and Renly wondered if he was thinking of the lovely Lyanna. “But it's Myrcella we should really think about. She should be betrothed before long." He sighed. "I had originally thought that Tyrell boy, filthy rich they are, like you say. And then he went and got himself trampled by a damned horse." He frowned. "Cripple would never do. And yet that fat flower up in Highgarden shows no signs of shifting the inheritance away from him.”

Renly raised an eyebrow. “He's the eldest. Could he do that?" 

Robert laughed. “Course he could. Who's got Storm's End eh? Last time I checked it was you and not our dear Stannis." He reached for the flagon once more. “And I dare say Tywin will do the same. What with his precious Jaime in a white cloak, it should be the imp really who replaces him as heir and yet I doubt that the imp will see as much as a store cupboard of that rock of his father's.”

Renly nodded. He supposed the first thing he would learn as Master of Laws was that nobody really gave a damn about the law. He sighed and shifted in his chair, hoping to escape now, go back to his chambers and get some sleep after their early arrival this morning seeing as it was clear he was to get nowhere with justice for Princess Elia.

He stood up, making his intention clear and smiling when Robert raised his hand and bid him go. He stopped Renly at the door though. "One more thing." He grunted.

"Yes?"

"A pair of Braavosi are arriving at the end of the week. From the Iron Bank. I'm putting you and Littlefinger in charge of them.”

Renly frowned. “What do you want from them?” He sincerely hoped that the bank wasn't coming to claim the money they were owed. The Iron Bank had a fearsome reputation and he didn't much fancy dealing with their wrath.

“Bigger loan.” Robert muttered. "Seeing as you, Jon and even bloody Stannis are insistent we should stop borrowing from the Westerlands."

Renly shut the door and turned back to face him. “I know nothing about money.” He told him. "I mean I know the basics, but I'm Master of Laws, not coin." He hadn't even been able to balance the books at Storm's End without Penrose's help until he'd been ten and five. Money bored him, unless it involved spending it. And that was something that Robert didn't need encouraging in.

Robert grunted. “Littlefinger'll handle the money. I just want you to help talk them into it. They're going to be here three weeks. They'll want dinners and lunches and private audiences. Rub them up the right way for me."

Renly raised an eyebrow. "And they won't want payment on the outstanding loans?"

Robert shrugged. "Perhaps. Should be easy enough for you to persuade them not to."

Renly just stared at him. That sounded like a nightmare. Surely Robert knew what the Braavosi said. _The Iron Bank will have its due_. And Renly doubted there would be much he or Littlefinger could do if they truly did want the repayments they were owed.

All the same though, Renly just nodded, laughed and took his leave.

.....................................................

He was pleased to see that Alyn had prepared him a bath when he'd came back. He stepped into it willingly, trying to relax and not think too much about the fact that Robert was expecting him to potentially change the minds of two important officials from the Iron Bank.

He instead turned to his squire, bidding the boy stay and keep him company while he bathed. Alyn had delivered all of his letters and Renly was not surprised to see that Janos Slynt had sent an answer back with him. He had of course accepted Renly's proposal and as Renly read the reply in the bath, he had to laugh at how oily the man sounded. He was one of those men who seemed to thrive on being considered important.

He tossed it aside once he was done and turned to his squire. "It seems I'm going to be busy a lot of the time I'm afraid." He sighed and made himself smile despite his exhaustion. "But Ser Guyard is going to take you to the training yard with him tomorrow morning and I think Ser Loras has agreed to take you the day after."

Alyn laughed, sitting down on a very large armchair and tucking his bandy legs underneath him. "I look forward to it." He sighed. "I've never been very good with a sword though. And Ser Loras is half way to being the best knight in the kingdoms. He'll find me very frustrating."

Privately, Renly had to agree; Loras would be a legend before the year was out. He smiled though. "There are other skills too, that are just as important." Loras would never have so willingly ran along and played messenger. He'd probably have gone, but he'd have not been happy about it. 

Alyn seemed pleased at his words and Renly smiled at him.

 .....................................................

Renly was just dozing off when the sound of a key in the lock roused him. Stifling a yawn, he sat up in bed, looking around for Loras. He'd spent all evening wondering whether Loras would turn up tonight and going over too just what would be appropriate whilst they were in Kings Landing. He very much wanted to play it safe for the first couple of months, when people would be most curious about him, and he wasn't sure if that meant he and Loras were going to have to find other ways to satisfy each other's needs instead of Renly bedding him like he usually did. For whilst he knew that Loras could be quiet- _ish_ if Renly did his best not to hit that certain spot that drove Loras crazy, Loras could certainly be very picky and choosy about it. He thought it might be best thus if they reverted back to doing everything but so to speak. He wasn't sure though how Loras would feel about this.

He supposed he should talk about it now with Loras really and yet Renly was ever conscious of the fact that all around him were other people's chambers and no doubt gaps between the walls within which, for all he knew, spies could be listening right now. It was well known that the Red Keep was full of such passageways. King Maegor had even had all the labourers who worked on the fort killed just to protect its secrets. And this wasn't a conversation he wished to have overheard.

He decided to play it by ear. “Did anyone see you?” Renly whispered as Loras shut the door behind him and crept over to his bed.

“I don't think so.” He stripped off his outer layers and climbed into bed with him, coming to lie in between his arms. He hadn't taken off all of his clothes and so Renly assumed that he could probably get away with delaying discussing details about exactly how intimate they could afford to be here.

He supposed that instead Loras probably just wanted to lie beside him for the greater portion of the night which didn't surprise him. He knew that Loras didn't like sleeping by himself and Renly supposed too that this was a very unfamiliar place for Loras and so he wanted the familiarity of lying close. He'd only been to the capital once before and now Renly supposed that he was much more on his own than he had been last time or ever had been before really. He wasn't a squire anymore and so he didn't have Renly to follow around all day, nor his family to entertain him either. Aside from his hours in the training yard, Renly doubted Loras knew really what to do with himself here. He wouldn't even put it past Loras to be homesick, not that Loras would ever admit it. And so he was unsurprised when Loras clung to him so tightly that Renly could have thought Loras a ship and himself an anchor. 

“So how was today?” Loras asked after he'd seemingly convinced himself Renly wasn't about to go anywhere, speaking all too loudly in Renly's opinion.

"Shh." Renly whispered, stroking his hair and trying to get him to hush a little. "Tiring. And you?”

“It was alright.” Loras tucked his head under Renly's chin and seemed to have got the message about speaking quietly. “I've been sorting out my plans for all the upcoming tourneys.”

“And where's the first one?” Renly breathed, wondering if it would be close.

“The Twins." He sighed, sounding a little disdainful. "Next week. Walder Frey's turning ninety. The tourney's for his nameday.”

“And shall you win it?”

Loras shrugged in Renly's arms. “I hope to." He laid his cheek against Renly's. "He's getting married too. To a girl my age.”

Renly grimaced. “That makes me feel all funny.” He didn't think men of ninety should be allowed to wed girls of fourteen. It was just disgusting and a waste of a good bride. 

Loras laughed under his breath. “We shan't go to the wedding, just the tourney.” He sighed. “I shall have to name the poor bride queen of love and beauty though if I win. It's only polite.”

Renly sighed. “It's next week you say?” He held Loras close and wondered how he was going to take this. “I can't come Loras.”

“You can't?” There was unconcealed disappointment in Loras' voice and it made Renly's heart ache.

Renly shook his head and kissed him on the mouth. “I'm sorry Loras. Robert's making me entertain some ambassadors from the Iron Bank.”

Loras was quiet for a few moments and then he shrugged, nestling into Renly's chest as he pulled his arms back around him. "Next time then I suppose."

Renly smiled into his hair. "Next time is a promise."  
  
Loras lifted his head at that and smiled back. "I'll hold you to that."


	72. Chapter 72

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay guys. I've moved to France this week and so things were a little busy to say the least! Things shall get easier from now on, but updates may have to drop once more to twice a week. We shall see how it goes :)

It didn't take Renly long to realise quite why Robert had invited him to join his small council. It had nothing to do with being Master of Laws but had everything to do with all the lords and ladies Robert couldn't be bothered to entertain. Almost every day there would be some lord or another seeking an audience with Robert and so almost every evening Renly gave dinners in his stead, holding court almost whilst Robert sat in his chambers moodily and drank the evenings away. That was of course why Robert had seen fit to give Renly his own kitchens, Renly reckoned, so that he could entertain his guests for him without any excuses.

And Renly did it well. He was more than aware that he had a way with people and he was quite happy to give lavish dinners well into the night, jesting with the lords and complimenting the ladies on how lovely their gowns were. He enjoyed too being told how witty he was, how very handsome he was. He certainly entertained his guests better than Robert could have done nowadays and that thought made Renly want to laugh; before long, he would be more popular in the capital than Robert. He was of course, even in the fortnight he'd been here, already more popular than Stannis, but that said, Renly reckoned the rivers of sewage in the streets were probably more popular than Stannis.

As much as Renly rather enjoyed entertaining guests though, he did have to admit that it was tiring. Small council meetings seemed always to be scheduled for the morning and most nights Renly ended up putting himself to bed very late, so late in fact that often that when he returned to his chambers, Loras would be there waiting for him, having been there for several hours already. By that point Renly was always too tired to do anything except sleep and yet Loras didn't appear to mind. At least, so far Loras hadn't said anything to suggest that he minded, he usually just complied quietly and let Renly use him as a pillow.

Loras had been gone for four or five days now, though, to the Twins for a tourney of Walder Frey's and so this evening, assuming Loras was back of course, Renly thought it best they get round to having that conversation about what was allowed and what wasn't. It had been two weeks after all that they'd been here and he and Loras had done little more than exchange a few kisses every now and again before Renly promptly fell asleep. And whilst that hadn't seemed to bother Loras so far, Renly knew that it was only a matter of time before he began to get frustrated. The other problem of course was that before he'd left for the Twins, Loras had been insistent on coming almost every evening to his chambers, something which Renly couldn't help but fear was all too suspicious.

It appeared he'd been right in assuming Loras would be back tonight, for Loras was waiting for him in bed as Renly came in that evening, sitting up and smiling at him as he always did, his curls in a state from the pillow. It rather pleased Renly to see him there waiting for him. It let him believe, if only for a few minutes, that things would be how they had been in Storm's End, where each and every day he would fall asleep and wake up net to Loras. 

Usually, Renly merely climbed in beside him to go to sleep. Today, however, he forced himself to keep his eyes open as he did so, moving to lie facing Loras, their noses almost touching.

"Good tourney?" Renly whispered, wanting to hear all about it.

Loras shrugged. "I lost in the final tilt to the Hound but I guess it was alright." He laughed. "I did have to give flowers to all the Frey girls though. There's hundreds of them and if they hadn't been sitting all together, I'd never have managed. I only just about had enough roses." He sighed. "And there wasn't enough tilts to go round, I had to give roses in pairs. _And_ most of them were homely. I had intended for it to be only the beautiful girls in the crowd that got roses."

Renly laughed. "So how does it work then, you giving roses?" He hadn't yet seen this happen, and he was curious as to how Loras chose to do it.

Loras grinned. "I had thought to give a white rose after each tilt, each to a pretty maiden, and then a red rose only to the most beautiful of them."

Renly rolled his eyes. "And I guess that way, maidens up and down the kingdom will spend each tourney dreaming of you handing that coveted red rose to them?"

"Of course." He laughed. "I had to give the red rose to Walder Frey's new wife though, even though she was hardly the most beautiful."

Renly grinned. "And what colour would  the rose you give me be?"

Loras laughed. "Whatever colour I have left?" He rolled away when Renly tried to poke him hard for that. "I'm joking. You shall get a red one Renly. The finest I can find."

"Do I get one today?" Renly glanced over at him hopefully and reeled him back in.

Loras shook his head. "No. You shall get one when you come and watch me. And you shall come next time won't you? It's a couple of days after my name day and it's even in the Crownlands, so it's not at all far."

Renly laughed. He was glad Loras had mentioned his name day for it had quite slipped his mind that it was coming up so soon. He grinned. "I'll come. That's a promise." He sighed. "But right now there's something I want to talk to you about."

Loras cocked his head and merely leant in to kiss him. "Can't it wait?" He whispered and Renly could tell that he was as wound up as he usually was after tourneys.

Renly laughed and cupped Loras' chin. "It was that I wanted to talk to you about actually."

Loras duly fell silent.

Renly took a deep breath, thinking he should probably choose his words prudently. Loras was easily offended and this, Renly thought, was going to a particularly sore subject. Tact would be essential. He opened his mouth."I was thinking Loras, that we should probably be careful, with what we do." He continued when Loras merely looked a little puzzled. "I mean in here, at night."

"What are you saying?" Loras whispered. "You mean that you don't want to bed me?"

Renly shrugged a little sadly. "It's just that you make so much noise Loras. I think it's better if we do everything except that, you know how we used to do, before I gave in to your asking for it."

"And you'll want it to be like that all the time whilst we're here?"

Renly sighed. There was more than a trace of disappointment in Loras' voice and Renly could tell he wasn't pleased. He pulled Loras to him. "Not forever no. Just for a little while." He kissed Loras' forehead. "Is that alright?"

Loras shrugged in Renly's arms. "it'll have to be alright won't it? I can't force you to bed me can I?"

Renly bit back another sigh. "If you're terribly upset about it, then I suppose maybe we could every now and again, if you promise to be very qu-"

Loras rolled his eyes and for once there was no amusement in his expression as he did so. "Don't trouble yourself Renly." He rolled over, turning his back on him. He did, however, pull Renly's arms around him, and so Renly supposed it wasn't a complete rejection.

"Didn't you want to...?" Renly kissed the back of Loras' neck softly. "We can still satisfy each other if you like?"

"Do _you_ want to?"

"If you want to." Renly couldn't deny the fact that he was beyond exhausted. 

Loras shrugged and said nothing.

Renly figured he might as well tackle the other issue now that Loras was already in a bad mood with him. "There's one more thing." He carried on when Loras remained silent. "I think it's best if we don't meet every night Loras, people will get suspicious if they see you walking to and fro every day."

Loras turned back around at that and he looked as if Renly had slapped him. "You mean that? You don't want me to come?"

Renly sighed at the plaintive edge in Loras' voice. "Of course I _want_ you to come. It's just not wise." If Renly could have it his way, he and Loras would share chambers instead of having to constantly go back and forth. And whilst they had practically shared chambers in all but name in Storm's End and in Highgarden, Kings Landing, however, was no place that they could do that.

"Alright." Loras whispered, burying his face in Renly's shoulder. "You tell me when to come then."

Renly kissed his hair. "There's a good boy." He stroked the strands of hair from Loras' face and set himself to kissing the rather resigned expression off Loras' face. It tugged too much at his heartstrings to see Loras like that.

Loras just sighed and wrapped his arms a little tighter around Renly's chest. He didn't say anything and so Renly took that as him wanting to go to sleep. His silence made Renly a little miserable though. He wouldn't have liked to call the exchange they'd just had an argument and yet it was clear that what Renly was asking of him was going to weigh heavily on Loras.

..........................

Loras seemed to take his words to heart for once and it was four days before he turned up again in Renly's chambers.

Renly was glad to see him, if a little disappointed that he'd chosen a rather inopportune moment. The Iron Bank representatives were arriving tomorrow and he'd just come straight from a small council meeting, one that from Robert hadn't even bothered to turn up despite the imminent arrival of his rather important guests. He'd merely sent a piece of parchment down informing them that he'd want enough money to hold Tommen a tourney for his name day. It hadn't been a very productive meeting. Jon Arryn had seemed stressed throughout, getting more so every minute as Stannis protested continually that getting the Crown another loan was the last thing they should be doing, despite Robert's insistences. Varys, meanwhile, had done little more than offer crypic phrases about how the Iron bank would get its due eventually. Renly had been inclined to agree with Stannis, and yet so did everybody. The problem was that Robert refused to listen to their misgivings. Stannis rambling on about it, on the other hand, did not help matters in the slightest, all it did in fact was make Robert even less likely to take their advice.

And so now, Renly had a huge pile of papers in front of him, a record of Robert's dealings with the Iron Bank that Littlefinger had seemed all to pleased to present him with. Renly supposed he didn't need to know the specifics of the loans but he had to know enough to be able to help persuade them to give Robert another one. 

Thus he was skimming through the pages as fast as he could, having reached only the fifth page when Loras appeared in the doorway that led from the back passage.

Renly sighed and grinned up at him, putting the papers down on the table. "I was beginning to think you'd abandoned me."

Loras laughed and gave him a wry smile. "You know, Renly, _you_ could always come to see me."

Renly grinned. "I shall Loras, Once these damned Braavosi from the Iron Bank have been and gone, I shall be all yours."

"Is that what you're doing know?" Loras leant over to inspect the papers, frowning disdainfully when he saw all the numbers written upon them; Loras had never had a head for figures. "It doesn't look very interesting." He smirked and bit softly on Renly's ear. "This would be far more interesting on the other hand."

Renly laughed. "Not now." It was a tempting offer and yet Renly thought he'd be lucky to get to bed this evening as it was, even without Loras' distractions. 

“Why?”

“Because,” Renly gestured to the pile of papers. “This all has to be read.”

Loras sighed. “Could you not fuck me whilst you read the papers?”

Renly laughed. “I don't think my concentration would be very good. Either you or my reading would suffer for it.”

“Your reading obviously.” Loras smirked. “Is that a no then?”

Renly grinned. “What have we said anyway?”

“ _That we have to be careful._ ” Loras recited dutifully, a bored look on his face. “Well could I at least pleasure you then? Put a little excitement into that reading of yours?”

“I'll tell you what,” Renly shifted slightly in his chair. “Come sit with me a while?” 

Loras laughed and climbed onto his lap, wrapping his arms round Renly's neck and laying his head against his shoulder. It was a large chair, obviously made for men Robert's size, and there was almost room for Loras to sit beside him. As it was though, Renly reckoned he prefered to have Loras half on his lap. He was comfortable enough there and Renly could rest his papers on Loras' thighs as a table. 

It was difficult to turn his attention back to his reading and yet Renly forced himself to. He was glad thus that Loras seemed content to sit quietly, watching him read from his vantage point and offering very few distractions. The next time he glanced down at him in fact, Renly was surprised to see that he had his eyes closed. 

He was asleep by the time Renly was halfway through, curled up still on his lap with his head on Renly's shoulder. Really, Renly should have woken him up and sent him off to bed and yet he couldn't bear to move him. He looked all too sweet, a small smile on his face as if he were dreaming about pleasant things, Renly thought. Grinning, he wondered if it was him Loras was thinking about. He very much hoped so. He'd have liked to sit and stare a while, and yet duty called, and so reluctantly Renly picked up the papers once more, resolving to wake Loras when he was done.

Renly did not remember falling asleep but when he awoke, he saw that the papers were still balanced on Loras' thighs and that he was still sat in his chair. Squinting, he realised he'd never pulled the drapes shut and the light of the dawn was streaming through the windows. He supposed he should be thankful for that though, had it not been for the light, Renly would probably never have woken up at all.

What did worry him though, was that Loras was still here, where Renly had left him, despite the fact that it was already dawn. Renly groaned. He could just imagine the horror on his squire's face, when upon coming to wake his lord that morning, he found him asleep in a chair, his former squire on his lap.

Groaning, Renly nudged Loras, trying to ignore the throbbing pain in his back. This was the last time, Renly thought, that he ended up falling asleep in a chair. 

Loras woke easily, opening his eyes and smiling up at him.

“Can you?” Renly nudged Loras off him, desperate to stretch his legs.

Loras yawned and stood up. “Bed?” He suggested.

Renly shook his head and got out of the chair. “It's already light Loras.” He gestured to the door. “You have to go.” He hissed.

“Do I have to?” Loras glanced out of the window sleepily. "Can't I stay till morning?"

Renly sighed. “How many times do we need to go through this Loras?”

Loras looked down at the floor, his mouth set and Renly realised he was not impressed. His heart softened a little and he forced himself not to be so impatient with Loras. With all his family in Highgarden, Renly suespected Loras was probably a little lonely. He sighed and drew Loras into his arms. “I'm sorry Loras, but that's how things have to be here.” He kissed his curls and tried not to let himself change his mind as Loras wrapped his arms around him.

Loras sighed and nodded. "Alright then Renly." He tilted his head up to let him kiss him. "You let me know when I can next come then."

Renly watched him leave before he climbed into bed and it wasn't long before he wished he'd begged Loras to stay instead.


	73. Chapter 73

The arrival of the two Braavosi was met with much fanfare and to give Robert his due, his brother did at least receive them before returning to his drink. That was about it though, Renly thought, and after that, Robert merely handed the foreigners to him and Littlefinger to handle, a prospect that Renly was not particularly looking forward to. Thankfully though, they spoke the common tongue almost fluently and if they thought it a slight that Robert wasn't dealing with them personally, they didn't show it.

Dinner was arranged for the following evening, a grand affair which all of the small council and Robert and Cersei would attend. No business would be spoken of there, just a bucket load of flattery, Renly suspected. Personally, he wasn't so sure quite how well flattery would work on these two visitors from the Iron Bank and yet he supposed that if anyone could have a go, it was him. He was well versed in getting people to come round to his way of thinking and hopefully, his charm would work as well on these Braavosi as it did on everyone else.

Reluctantly though, Renly had to admit that Petyr Baelish, a man he could still not make up his mind about, was also rather good with his words. Robert seemed to recognise this and so he'd told him that he would seat the Braavosi between the two of them.

Renly was determined though to outshine him and so he made sure to give himself enough time to get ready for dinner. If he was going to be doing any persuasion, he was going to have to look his best. The Braavosi would not be impressed by anything less than the finest fabrics and Renly wanted them to know he meant business. He supposed it wouldn't be hard though to look better than Littlefinger; the man clearly had no idea how to dress himself. He was always turning up to Small Council meetings in clothes that Renly personally would have burned.

He was pleased to see Alyn had drawn him a bath by the time he got back to his chambers to dress for dinner and he sank into it gratefully, pleased his squire hadn't kept him waiting. He'd made sure that he would have a decent amount of time, but he didn't have hours and hours to wile away.

He smiled up at his squire as he washed his hair. "How have you been?" He asked, feeling a little guilty that he'd barely spent ten minutes at a time with the boy. "I'm afraid I've been too busy to keep track of all your comings and goings."

"Fine, my lord. Kings Landing suits me well enough." The boy seemed to speak sincerely enough and so Renly relaxed a little. His squire didn't seem to mind that he was never around and not for the first time, Renly was rather glad that he'd chosen an older boy who could take care of himself. He was surprised though to hear that the boy wasn't opposed to Kings Landing. He grinned. "Trust me, you'll change your mind about the capital before long." He laughed. "So who were you with today? And what did you do?"

"I learnt the basics of using a mace, with Ser Guyard, my lord." Alyn took a seat at the table and for the briefest of moments it was on the tip of Renly's tongue to ask him to come sit by the tub like he would have asked Loras. Sighing, he resisted the urge to laugh; he supposed old habits died hard. He could just imagine the confusion and horror on his squire's face if he'd asked him to sit by him so intimately or get into the tub with him.

"And how do you find Ser Guyard?" He asked instead, swishing the water about absent-mindedly.

A small smile came to his squire's face. "He is very skilled. And pleasant enough I guess." He shrugged, laughing a little. 

Renly grinned. That sounded suspicious. "Pleasant enough? What does that mean?"

His squire laughed. "Can I speak my mind?"

"Granted."

Alyn laughed. "Ser Guyard, well he likes to show off a little." He grinned. " _A lot_ actually. I think he rather enjoys the fact that he is skilled and I am not. He shows me things five times, when once would have sufficed. I seem to spend most of my time watching him do things."

Renly grinned. He could well believe it. Most young knights seemed to be like that in fact. "And Loras?"

"Can I speak freely here too?" His squire looked a little less ease at here.

Renly chucked. "As you like."

"Ser Loras is.. well _ruthless_." Aly laughed. "There's no other word for him. If I get something wrong, he makes me do it for hours until it's right, even if it's getting late, and even if it's time for dinner." He sighed. "I admit, I'd never dare to cross him."

Renly grinned. "Don't tell me you're afraid of Loras?"

Alyn laughed. "I think a lot of people are afraid of Ser Loras. Have you _seen_ him with a lance in his hand?"

Renly laughed. He supposed he had, but then again he'd also seen Loras on his knees begging to be fucked or half asleep once he'd finished with him and there was nothing frightening about him then. Renly raised an eyebrow. "Yes but, even so, he shouldn't strike fear into you, he's barely a day older than you after all."

Alyn frowned. "I've no idea how old Ser Loras is. I'd assumed he was more or less of an age with you."

"My age?" Renly shook his head. "No, Loras is four and ten." He laughed. "So don't let him frighten you."

"Ser Loras is only fourteen?" Alyn looked genuinely surprised. "But he's so good at everything."

Renly smiled. "Yes he is, and like Ser Guyard, he certainly is well aware of it as I'm sure you know."

Alyn sighed. "Yes, he doesn't waste _as_ much time showing off though as Ser Guyard." He laughed. "Though it's most amusing when they're in the training yard together. Each tries to outdo the other. It's only a matter of time, I think, before they challenge each other." He grinned. "It will be most fun to watch I imagine."

Renly agreed, laughing. He imagined too that such a duel would be rather entertaining. He suspected Ser Guyard though might not agree once he'd picked himself out of the dirt. It felt a little odd hearing somebody else tell him about what Loras was up to. He was so used to knowing what Loras was doing every minute of every day that it was rather jarring almost. He supposed also that he should make more of an effort to ask Loras how his squire was getting along. Just because he didn't have the time to teach him himself, it didn't mean that he ought not to take an interest.

Alyn was just about to speak again when there was a loud knock at the door.

Renly laughed. "You go. I should really get myself out of this bath."

Alyn obediently disappeared and Renly reluctantly stood and stepped out of the still warm water, pulling on his small-clothes and a pair of breeches. Alyn returned within a few moments.

"And?" Renly rubbed his hair roughly with a towel.

His squire laughed. "It's Ser Loras, my lord. Wants a word with you."

Renly grinned. "Speak of the devil, eh?" He laughed. "Well that's fine."

“In here or in your audience chamber.”

Renly laughed. “How he likes.” He supposed actually that this was less suspicious, Loras calling by his rooms as any friend might. Still though, he couldn't help inspecting Alyn's face as he disappeared once more out the door. There didn't seem to be any suspicion there though and so Renly relaxed, going to get his shaving bowl out and working the soap into a lather. He wanted to be nicely clean shaven for dinner. Robert's bristly look didn't really give the best impression nowadays and so Renly supposed he would have to do it for him, be the reminder of what Robert had once looked like.

Alyn returned. "He says in here will do."

Renly nodded and laughed. "He can help me choose what to wear then." He laid a hand on Alyn's shoulder and grinned. "That is one of the more important skills I shall teach you. How to dress well."

His squire laughed. "Indeed, my lord." He gestured over to the shaving bowl. "Can I help you?"

Renly smiled. "It's alright. Take the evening off. I'll be back very late, no need that you wait up."

And so Alyn took his leave and Renly went to sit at the looking glass without further delay, rubbing the lather over his jaw and picking up his razor. When he turned around next, Loras was leaning against the door frame watching him. Renly just sighed at him. After not seeing him for a few days, he always managed to forget just quite how handsome Loras was. He rather wished he wasn't going for dinner now at all, and that he could simply spend the evening staring at him.

He grinned. "So what can I do for you this evening Ser Loras?"

Loras rolled his eyes and closed the distance between them. He smirked as he leant down. "I should imagine you could do a lot for me." He brushed Renly's hair off the back of his neck and pressed a kiss there, biting him ever so softly.

Renly laughed. "I'd return the favour but-" He gestured to the shaving lather across his jaw. "- It probably wouldn't be so pleasant for you." He picked up the razor again as Loras just shrugged and kissed the back of his neck again, pulling down the neck of Renly's small-clothes so that he could access more of Renly's bare skin. Renly couldn't help but sigh, doing his best to keep his concentration on the task at hand. It would not do at all if he cut himself tonight and had to turn up to dinner with a piece of cloth to stem the bleeding.

He turned around though as soon as he was done, smiling when Loras ran his finger over his jaw, wiping away the remnants of the lather. Sighing, he pressed his face into Loras' chest, relishing quite how familiar he smelt. "I've missed you Loras." He laughed. "I've been having to make do with what my squire tells me of you."

Loras laughed, running his hands through Renly's still damp hair. "And what does he say of me? It's all bad I hope?"

"Absolutely." Renly grinned and stood up. "Now come, help me choose what to wear this evening."

Loras' smile faltered ever so briefly but then he laughed. "Where are you going?"

"Dinner. Iron bank." Renly pressed a kiss to his cheek before turning to rifle through his wardrobe. "I have to look my best. I'm thinking sophisticated, elegant, charming, persuasive."

Loras laughed. "Persuasive? Best go naked then."

Renly grinned. "I shall save that for you, I think." He'd love to see the looks on Stannis' and Cersei' faces though if he turned up to dinner in nought but his skin. Robert, on the other hand, probably wouldn't even notice.

Loras smiled and looped his arms around Renly's neck. "Tomorrow, could _we_ have dinner? Just the two of us? In here perhaps?"

Renly sighed and pulled out a deep blue surcoat which he knew made his eyes look particularly blue. “Tomorrow? I've already got dinner with Janos Slynt.” He turned back to the looking glass, straightening his hair. "Another time?" 

Loras was silent for a while and when Renly glanced round he was frowning. “You'll come see me afterwards though?” He asked. "Spend the night with me?"

Renly grinned. “I shall do my best.” He kissed the corner of Loras' mouth before turning back round to look for the doublet that went under the surcoat.

Loras didn't seem placated though. “Have you any time now?”

“Not much? Why?” Renly started buttoning up the doublet.

“Come to bed? Quickly?” Loras grabbed his wrist and tried to pull him to the bed. He frowned when Renly didn't budge. “Please Renly? I want you.”

He laughed though when he failed to make Renly move and lounged back elegantly across the bed. “Fine then.” He smirked. “I shall have to see to my own needs it seems.” He unlaced his breeches, pulling them down to his knees and Renly laughed as he took himself in hand. This was exactly the sort of thing Loras would try; his squire had never understood the fact that sometimes one couldn't merely do as they liked, that Renly couldn't simply miss dinner to spend the evening with him. 

He sighed. “Loras, I've got to be at dinner in fifteen minutes." He couldn't deny though that Loras' offer was tempting. He looked ever so inviting like that, stretched out across the bed with his hair falling into his eyes and his hand around his cock. He closed his eyes and turned determinedly back to the looking glass, pinning his stag brooch onto his doublet. He wanted no one to forget tonight that he was the King's brother.

Loras didn't seem deterred though and he rolled over, getting near enough to tug on Renly's sleeve. "I know that. But we both know you shall give me what I want anyway though."

"I can't Loras." He removed Loras' hands from his sleeve and set to brushing his hair. He was getting a little frustrated now that Loras seemed insistent on not actually listening to a word he said and he couldn't help but lose his temper a little when Loras tugged again once more at his hand. He sighed deeply and wheeled around. “Look Loras, I haven't got time for your games, and if I turn up to dinner hard in my breeches, they'll be uproar. Just give it a rest will you?“

Loras let go of his hand. And looking very bewildered, pulled up his breeches sharply, his cheeks quickly turning red. “Alright then.” He said bitterly, looking determinedly down at the covers. He was angry, that much Renly could tell, and he now regretted being short with him. He hated seeing Loras upset with him. 

Renly sighed and moved to the bed, kissing Loras' head. “Don't sulk Loras. Wait for me here if you like. I've dismissed my squire for the evening.”

Loras shrugged stubbornly. “It's alright. I might go to bed.” Refusing to meet Renly's eye, he stood. “Come see me tomorrow, I shall wait for you.”

 

 ..............................

 

The next few days were a whirlwind. Proper audiences had begun with the Braavosi and Renly had begun too to understand why the Iron Bank had such a fearsome repuation. The two men were ever polite but they were almost entirely unyielding when it came to asking them for an extension on their loan. Flattery, Renly thought, didn't seem to work on them very well, and even his own charm seemed to do little to make them more willing. Littlefinger too had begin to irritate him beyond belief. He was quite clearly skilled with figures and yet Renly thought if he had to see his smug smile one more time directed in his direction, then he might have to punch him. Him and his silly pointed beard. 

He met too with Janos Slynt and he was as unpleasant as everyone had led him to believe. He quite clearly thought himself more important than he actually was and Renly found himself a little disgusted by how much the man seemed to try and curry favour with him, alternating every five minutes between complimenting him and bragging about that nobody else could keep the peace like he could. If Robert hadn't been insistent on keeping him, Renly would have probably thrown him in the black cells just to shut him up. He forced himself to be polite though and figured that if he was going to uncover the corrupt practices Jon Arryn had warned him about, he'd do better to not let Janos Slynt suspect that Renly thought him a waste of space.

He completely forget that he was supposed to have see Loras afterwards though until Loras himself turned up the next evening, looking rather wary as he appeared in the doorway.

"Renly?" He whispered, poking his head through the door.

"Yes?" Renly looked up from the letter he was writing, a raven to Braavos to confirm that the Crown would be deferring payment on their loans for a few months more as agreed with the two representatives. He smiled.

"Yesterday? You never came." Loras hovered in the doorway. "I waited for you."

Renly sighed. "I barely had a moment to sit down yesterday Loras." He laughed. "I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you tonight."

Loras didn't smile but came to sit on the bed all the same. 

“Come to bed then?" He asked, sitting cross legged on the end of the bed and watching Renly as he wrote.

Renly laughed. “Give me a few minutes.”

Loras it seemed though was impatient. He waited for as long as his nature would allow him to, before getting up and sighing impatiently. "Come on Renly. It's two in the morning. Can't you leave it till tomorrow?"

Renly grinned. "Genuinely, I'm almost done. I'm on the last two lines." That was almost true, he supposed. 

Loras looked sceptical and peered down at the piece of parchment. His mouth set, he wrapped his arms around Renly's chest and tugged.   
  
Renly supposed that it was well-intentioned, and that Loras couldn't possibly have known that in trying to pull him up he would make Renly knock over the vial of ink on the table. All the same though, Renly couldn't help but sigh as he watched the black liquid seep into the letter he'd been on the verge of finishing.

“Loras.” Renly put his head in his hands. “Look what you've done.”

Loras scowled for a moment and then his anger seemed to fade as he looked down at the mess on the table. His brow furrowed. “I'm sorry Renly, I only wanted to..” He dabbed at the ink with a spare piece of parchment but it was obvious the letter could not be salvaged. He looked quite pitiful then and Renly was almost tempted to wrap his arms around him, treat him as the child he no longer was, and tell him it didn't matter. He glanced again though at the ruined letter and couldn't help groaning when he thought of how long he'd spent on that tonight.

He sighed though and forced himself not to snap at Loras. “I know you didn't mean to.” He picked up the stained letter and tossed it aside, where he wouldn't have to look at it anymore. He'd get Alyn to tackle the ink stains on the table in the morning.

“I can write it out again if you like, or have Tommas do it if you want.” Loras rubbed ineffectually at the inky table with his handkerchief.

“Don't trouble yourself.” Renly supposed it had to be in his own hand really. “I'll do it. It shouldn't take me that long I guess, now that I've done it once already.”

“Does it have to be done now?” Loras wiped his hands on his handkerchief and tugged gently on Renly's wrist. "It's late and you're tired."

Renly sighed. “It has to be sent tonight." He wished that he could just leave it and go to bed with Loras. 

"But you'll still come to the tourney?" Loras wrapped his arms back around Renly's neck and leant his head on his shoulder. "You haven't forgotten that it's tomorrow have you?"

"I haven't forgotten." Renly shook his head and twisted to kiss him. He'd managed just about to arrange his meetings so that he could go. "I can't make it tomorrow but I shall be there the day after to see you win. That's the important part right?"

Loras grinned. "Alright then. I shall look for you in the crowd." He laughed and turned towards the door. "You shall have to promise not to be too jealous though when I give roses to all the maidens You'll have to wait till afterwards for yours."  
  
Renly laughed. "I'm sure I'll manage Loras." He then took a piece of fresh parchment and began writing once more. 


	74. Chapter 74

Renly counted the hours until he could escape from the tedium of endless meetings and join Loras at the tourney. He was quite sure that it would be paradise to even enjoy just a few hours away from the capital, and more than anything he wanted to see Loras joust, to feel proud that the knight who was now unhorsing opponents left right and centre had once been his squire. He wanted too to get his rose, the one Loras had promised him.

 It was to be at Rosby, the tourney, a mere few hours ride from Kings Landing, and so Renly would be travelling up on the morning of the second day, hopefully arriving just in time for the start of the semi-finals. His only worry was that in some stroke of bad luck, Loras would have been knocked out in an earlier round and that Renly would turn up to find him in a sour mood and rather disappointed that Renly hadn't got to seen him joust after all. He thought it unlikely though that this would be the case. From what he'd heard from Penrose and Loras himself, there were very few who didn't fall to Loras' lance.

The morning he was set to leave had dawned bright and early, the sun streaming in through the windows. He had only one meeting before he could set off, a rather dismal one between the Iron Bank and the small council that morning, and it was not going well at all. Whilst the two Braavosi had already agreed to let them delay payment on their loans, another loan seemed out of the question. To add insult to injury, Renly had had the misfortune to be seated next to Stannis who seemed in a particular sour mood this morning, the sort of mood he reserved for those days when Robert seemed intent on further bankrupting the realm.

"Perhaps," and Littlefinger smiled that rather sly smile at the two Braavosi. "The Crown could give your bank a small advance on our delayed payments. A show of good faith. Let us say five hundred thousand?"

The two Braavosi seemed to consider this and they turned to each other, conversing rapidly in a language none of them understood. Renly hated it when they did this and it was clear that most of the small council did. Varys was the only exception. He made it quite clear that he understood, rubbing his powdered white hands together gleefully as the two Braavosi spoke. 

Stannis seemed the most put out though and wheeled round to face Littlefinger. "And where does the Crown find this half a million coin?" He hissed under his breath.

Littlefinger shrugged. "The Lannisters will accommodate Robert. They always do." His lips twisted upwards. "Or perhaps we could sell some of the queen's jewellery."

Renly had to smile at that. Pycelle, however, seemed angered and the old Maester began his ramblings, accusing Littlefinger of the utmost disrespect. The queen's jewels apparently had been handed down through generations of Lannisters, from insufferable mother to their insufferable daughter for centuries. 

Renly sighed as he rambled on and chanced yet another glance out of the window, wondering what the time was. The sun was worryingly high in the sky by now. He'd hoped to be out of here by now and on the road, to Rosby and Loras. As it was though, he was still stuck in here, his men waiting for him in the courtyard, all saddled up and ready to leave as soon as he was done.

Stannis caught him looking and his eyes narrowed. He nudged Renly hard under the table and jerked his head towards the Braavosi.

Renly sighed and rolled his eyes. "This was only supposed to take an hour." He whispered, running a hand through his hair. "It's been three."

Stannis frowned, gritting his teeth. "I'm sorry if our business here interferes with your leisure." He said dryly. "I told Robert that having you on the small council was a mistake. Spoiled children don't make for g-"

"You know the mistake here?" Renly snapped. "It's that Robert didn't send you permanently off to Dragonstone."

The vein in Stannis' temple began to throb, and Littlefinger raised an eyebrow, glancing first at the still conversing Braavosi before turning to them. "Now now." He smirked. "Do we need to take this outside?"

Renly took a deep breath and smiled. "No, everything's fine." He grinned at Stannis in the most irritating way he could manage. "Isn't it brother?"

"Yes." Stannis muttered curtly, pointedly looking away.

They didn't speak for the rest of the meeting and it was midday by the time Renly escaped, long after he had hoped to. He felt quite desolate as he walked down to the courtyard where his men were waiting for him. None of them mentioned that he was about four hours later than he had said he would be and Renly sighed miserably as Alyn brought his horse forward.

Alyn handed him the reins of his horse and glanced up at him questioningly. "My lord, do we head still to Rosby?"

Renly shrugged. "I guess there's no reason to now." He sighed. "Jousting will have finished for the day long before we arrive."

Alyn nodded and took the reins back from him, taking the horse back to the stables. That seemed to send the message to the other men too and one by one they too dismounted and headed in the direction of the stables. Renly felt a little sorry for them. No doubt many of them had been looking forward to seeing part of the tourney at Rosby.

He imagined that none of them though were as disappointed as he was. He wasn't sure quite how Loras would take this, but he imagined that he was going to be in for a rough time this evening when Loras came home. At the very least, he'd have to grovel and beg before Loras would even consider forgiving him for missing the tourney. He would forgive him though, Renly knew. Loras always did. It would take a lot of very pitiful grovelling on his part but eventually Loras would come round, would let Renly take him in his arms and make it up to him.

And so, when Loras was due back, Renly went to wait in his chambers, unlocking the door with the key Loras had given him which he had of yet not used. He'd found a flagon of wine, and he decided that he was going to enjoy a proper evening with Loras tonight even if it killed him, even if he had to get through the day tomorrow exhausted and hung over while Stannis scowled at him. His brother would no doubt think ill of him as ever, but Renly was quite sure he wouldn't care. He did care, though, about rather how angry Loras might be when he came back. 

Renly had not been in Loras' chambers before and he was first struck by how untidy everything was. Loras had obviously not prepared very well for the tourney for everything was everywhere, bits of armour that didn't fit anymore discarded on the floor, and pieces of parchment scattered all over the table. It rather surprised him. Loras had always seen ever organised. It had always been Renly himself who'd been the untidy one. 

Sighing, Renly began picking up the pieces of armour, putting them away tidily in a large box at the foot of Loras' bed. He rather disliked doing such menial tasks and yet he could hardly ask his servants to do it for him. He imagined that asking the chambermaids to clean another man's room would probably not be the best way of keeping rumours about him and Loras at bay. He refused though to leave it as it was. He'd need to do a lot of grovelling tonight and that meant an evening in bed, with wine and the candles lit, and Renly imagined the mood would be rather ruined if he left the armour all over the floor.

It didn't take him long though and once all the armour was tidied, he set himself to clearing the table, gathering up the pieces of parchment. He was just shuffling them into a pile when he noticed that one of them was not blank at all, but was in fact a letter. It hadn't been sealed yet and Loras had evidently not cared about keeping the parchment pristine for it was a little rumpled about the edges, and looked like it had been folded and unfolded multitudes of times.

Curious, Renly unfolded it a little. It was in Loras' hand and addressed to a _dearest Margaery_. He sighed and ran a finger over Loras' familiar writing. He knew that the proper thing to do would be to fold it straight back up and leave it alone and yet Renly couldn't resist, it was just too tempting.

Glancing at the door, he sat himself down at the table and unfolded it properly, smoothing it out under his hands. It was dated a couple of days ago and Renly wondered why Loras hadn't sent it yet. It was unlike Loras to delay any of his letters to Margaery.

 _I missed you today._ Loras started, unsurprisingly, Renly thought, as Loras always seemed to miss his sister _. But I got your letter and it made me smile as usual. Give my love to Garlan and Willas too, Garlan's letter in particular was very amusing, and Willas' was too I guess, though I do wish sometimes that he wouldn't take my interest in the rock formations of the red mountains for granted, it's really rather dull in fact. I don't particularly care if it's quite extroadinary that the Andals managed to carve roads into the rock. That aside though, it was lovely to get letters from you all. It's been a miserable day all in all though. Renly didn't even bother to come and see me this evening. He said he was going to and yet it's almost dawn now and there's no sign of him. I know he had dinner with someone vaguely important tonight, the head of the gold cloaks I think, and it's evidently slipped his mind. I wish though that it was just that he'd forgotten tonight. I could cope with that. As it is though, we've hardly seen each other since we came and I can't remember how long it is since he took me to bed, or even suggested that he might like to take pleasure in anything of the sort. I can't help but fear that he doesn't love me anymore Margaery, or at least not like he used to._

Renly let the letter fall onto the table, rereading the last couple of lines a little desperately. He refused to believe that Loras was capable of ever even doubting that he loved him. He ran through the last couple of days in his mind, trying to put his finger on what he had missed when he went to dinner with Janos Slynt. He felt quite desolate when he put his finger on it, and his breath coming heavily, he glanced up at the date that headed Loras' letter. It confirmed his worst fears. Shaking, he picked the page back up, ignoring the rather sharp pain in his chest.

_I want to come home Margaery. I hate it here. I don't know what to do with myself all day and Renly seems to have no interest in seeing me in the evenings. I often wonder whether he'd actually notice if I came home. Perhaps he would, but I'm not sure anymore. Either way, I shall definitely come home for your name day at the very least. Is father still planning on throwing a ball for you? I hope so, I know how much the idea excited you._

Renly took a deep breath, feeling tears sting his eyes. He _would_ notice if Loras went home, of course he would. Kings Landing was miserable enough as it was and Renly couldn't begin to imagine how much worse it would be if Loras deserted him. He'd had no idea how unhappy Loras had been here and yet a small voice in the back of his mind pointed out that he probably ought to have noticed. He ought to have noticed and done something about it, even if it meant throwing the small council position back in Robert's face and taking Loras home, back to Storm's End. 

He didn't hear the key turn in the lock and it was too late by then.

Loras looked beyond tired as he came in the door and yet when he saw Renly his face lit up. That quickly changed into confusion though when he saw what Renly had in his hands, his brow furrowing. Frozen to the spot, Renly watched helplessly as emotion after emotion chased across his face, confusion, disappointment, hurt, anger until finally it was clear that Loras was absolutely furious.

His eyes flashed. “How dare you?” He snapped from the door way. “What the fuck do you think you're doing Renly?”

Renly hastily dropped the letter. "I- I was waiting for you Loras. To apologise for today." He didn't think the flagon of wine would be enough now.

"Don't bother." Loras spat bitterly. "Some apology. Now get out."

Renly tried not to cry at those words. Loras had never told him to leave, not even once. He stood up desperately. “I'm sorry Loras. I just couldn't help myself, I was curious was all. We've never had any secrets from each other. I didn't thi-”

"I said _go_." Loras cut him off angrily and if looks could kill, Renly knew he'd already be dead several times over.

Renly took a shaky breath, feeling a little unsteady as he walked towards him and the door way. “I'll go.” Ashamed, he tried to hand the letter to Loras who slapped away his hand angrily.

“Keep it.” He snapped. He then reached into his cloak and thrust something into Renly's hands. “And here, what you asked for.”

Renly stared down at it sadly. It was large red rose, it's petals a little rumpled but none the less beautiful for it. He felt tears threaten to well up again. “Loras, _please_.”

“Just go.”

With one more furtive glance back at Loras, Renly went.


	75. Chapter 75

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry there's been such a wait, moved to a new apartment with no wifi, took ages to set it up. Everything's sorted now though and we should be good to go! :) Also, for those of you who are interested, new chap of Strings Attached should be up some time tomorrow. It's written, just needs editing now :)

Renly felt rather numb as he walked back to his room and Loras' words rung loudly in his head with every step he took, over and over until it was all Renly could hear. He closed his eyes. Loras had never spoken to him like that before, never told him to leave, never told him to go, not even once. He and Loras had argued before but this felt different, Renly thought miserably, less an irrational outburst from Loras that he'd calm down from after a while and more a proper fight, the sort of which he'd never expected to have with Loras. More than anything it felt terrifyingly real, and for the first time Renly found himself wondering with more than a little panic if this would be it for him and Loras, if Loras would return to Highgarden and live his life without him.

He shut his eyes tightly. He was used to people leaving. His entire childhood had been punctuated by it. He supposed it was fitting now then that this one would his fault, that it was _him_ who'd pushed Loras away, pushing and pushing until Loras had no choice but to push back.

Miserably, he ran through the last few his weeks, in his mind, ignoring the sharp stabbing pain in his chest every time he thought of the occasions he'd told Loras he was busy, or sent Loras back to his own chambers, told him that he couldn't risk making love to him in case someone heard. Coming in to find him reading a letter he had no business reading had probably been the last straw for Loras. That said, Renly supposed it wasn't a hard conclusion that Loras had come to, to doubt that Renly didn't want him anymore. It was the logical conclusion perhaps, but the wrong one, Renly thought desperately.

His chambers were dark when he entered and Renly didn't bother lighting the candles as he sat down on his bed, placing the rose in the dark shadow that was his bedside table where he wouldn't have to look at it. He rather wished the ground would open and swallow him up and yet the floor seemed stable enough despite his shaking legs and he had to make do with pulling the pillow over his head, as if that might help him forget the anguished way Loras had looked at him as he came in the door. It was him who'd made Loras look like that and he couldn't get away from that fact. He'd known when he saw the letter that he ought to have put it straight back down, known even before that that he ought to have found some way to make more time for the boy who'd been willing to leave everything behind in Highgarden just to keep him company.

And no matter how hard Renly buried his head under the pillow, and how hard he tried to bury his guilt with it, sleep wouldn't come. Loras' words echoed still in his head and every time he shut his eyes all he could see was the expression on Loras' face as he'd come in, the way his face had lit up when he saw him and then how it had fallen when he realised what Renly was doing.

Admitting defeat, Renly sat up and lit a candle, staring down at the rose Loras had given him on his bedside table. Sighing, he picked it up. Someone, Loras, he imagined, had gone to the trouble of taking all the thorns off it. He curled his fingers around the stem, wishing Loras had left it as it was. He rather deserved to get his fingers pricked. He closed his eyes and ran his fingertips over the silky petals, silkier even than Loras' curls or that very soft skin on the underside of his arms. It wasn't true what Loras said he feared in his letter. He'd always want Loras. He always had, ever since Loras had been old enough to be wanted. He felt tears prick his eyes as he once more pictured Loras picking out this rose for him, taking the thorns off for him, ad then watching the crowd as he waited for him to come, as he'd waited almost every day for the past few weeks.

He wrenched himself off his bed then and crept out the door. He was quite sure Loras would refuse to see him and yet he had to try, had to try and make amends somehow. Shamefully, he wondered whether this was how Loras had felt for the past few weeks, creeping along in the dark, knowing that he'd probably be coming straight back the way he'd come.

Loras' chambers weren't locked and gingerly, Renly pushed the door ajar, his heart almost breaking to see that Loras was still awake and quite evidently sobbing into the bedclothes, curled up in bed like Renly had been. It hurt to see Loras like this. He was usually so sure of himself, and yet on that bed he looked more helpless than Renly had ever seen him look.

He lifted his head up though as Renly came in and it was evident he was still furious.

“I don't want you here.” He spat angrily, wiping his tears and glaring at him. “I thought I made that clear.”

“Please Loras.” Renly took a step forward despite Loras' words, his resolve breaking a little when he saw quite how much Loras' eyes narrowed. He kept going though, sitting nervously on the edge of the bed and trying not to notice how Loras' fists were clenched as if he were about to punch him. He'd deserve it, Renly knew, he would deserve every bruise Loras was capable of giving him.

“Go.” Loras shoved him roughly, with almost enough force to send Renly toppling off the bed and crashing onto the floor.

“Please, just let me apol-” Renly caught Loras' fist with his hand, unable to stop his face crumpling when he realised that Loras had actually tried to hit him, actually struck out at him.

“I don't want you to apologise.” Loras tried to snatch his fist away, scowling when Renly wouldn't let go. He tried with the other fist then, practically growling when Renly caught that one too.

“Just listen.” Renly pleaded. “I need you to listen.” He didn't loosen his grip on Loras' wrists, pushing him back down on to the bedclothes and pinning him there when it became clear that Loras wasn't above attempting trying to lash out with his legs too. He wasn't sure what his plan was. He only knew that somehow he had to make Loras listen to him as the alternative was all too painful for him to even contemplate.

“Shh.” Renly whispered, risking letting one of Loras' wrists go and pushing Loras' hair out of his eyes. “ _Please_. Can't we talk about this?”

For a moment Loras just glared at him and yet before Loras could snap something angry back, both he and Loras were fumbling at the fastenings on each other's clothes, Loras' hands not much gentler than when he'd been attempting to punch him. Even so, it was a welcome change, and Renly sighed as Loras tugged the laces forcefully from his breeches, the fabric ripping loudly under his rough fingers.

It had been so long, Renly realised, and yet the warm press of Loras' skin felt as familiar as ever even though there was nothing at all familiar about the fury in Loras' eyes. Groaning, he pushed back hard against Loras. He was determined to prove to Loras how he felt, that he still wanted him, and that he'd always want him, and if that meant making love to him until the sun was up in spite of all the harsh words exchanged tonight then so be it.

And yet there was nothing loving about it. Whether it was because Loras was still furious at him or because it had been so long, both he and Loras seemed intent on pushing each other right to their very limits and Renly gasped as Loras dug his fingers hard enough into his sides to draw blood. It was deliberate, Renly knew. He was all too aware that Loras was trying to make him hurt, to make him feel pain.

He gave as good as he got though and yet Loras didn't seem to care that he was being fucked harder than could ever be wise. He moaned Renly's name into his mouth with each thrust, biting hard at his neck and clawing at his back as Renly pinned him to the bed.

They were breaking every rule Renly had devised for Kings Landing and yet Renly didn't care. He didn't care that the headboard crashed against the wall every time he slammed into Loras, he didn't even care that Loras was making more noise than a paid whore and that Loras had left left bruises all over his body. He only cared that Loras was underneath him once more, his legs wrapped tightly around his waist in spite of the silent fury that was radiating off of him.

Renly came just after Loras and he had to cry out too as Loras' legs tightened painfully around him almost hard enough to break his bones.

The room felt eerily quiet once both he and Loras had stopped panting and Renly took a deep breath as he rolled off Loras awkwardly. He wasn't sure now that bedding Loras had been the best idea. Loras seemed more than a little conflicted next to him. He'd stopped glaring which Renly supposed meant the anger at least was gone, but the silence between them was just as disconcerting. Usually there would be laughter after he and Loras parted, playful teasing, or else they wouldn't part at all and Loras would lie quietly in Renly's arms and whisper soft words in his ear.

The silence was louder than anything Loras had ever whispered in his ear.

“Loras?” Renly whispered, opening his arms and praying silently that Loras would be willing to make peace now, to forgive.

Loras hesitated a little but shifted a little closer and Renly almost sighed with relief when Loras eventually closed the gap between them, burying his head in Renly's shoulder and wrapping his arms tightly around Renly's chest.

It was only when Renly felt tears against his skin that he realised Loras was crying. The last time he'd seen Loras cry it had been because he had to leave Storm's End, something neither of them had been able to change, and yet now this was entirely his own doing, Renly thought miserably. It was entirely his fault. Everything tonight was his fault.

“Shh.” he soothed, rocking Loras slightly as he reached for the discarded bedclothes and tucked them around him. He was quite sure any moment now that Loras would snap once more and tell him to get out. He knew all too well how proud Loras was, how scathing he was of any perceived weakness, and it was only a matter of time, Renly thought, before Loras decided that he didn't want Renly to see him cry.

He didn't snap though but nor did Renly's hushing seem to do anything to soothe Loras for he merely sobbed harder as Renly pressed him to him. Renly closed his eyes. The sound made him want to weep too. He'd always promised himself he'd never hurt Loras, would always do good by him, and yet he'd quite clearly failed at that. Here he was, with his face pressed into Renly's chest and his tears soaking into his skin.

“It's alright Loras. Everything's going to be alright.” Renly tightened his grip around him, squeezing him almost desperately.

“Is it?” Loras lifted his head and Renly tried to hold it together as he saw the tears streaming down his cheeks. Somehow it had been easier when he hadn't been able to see.

“Yes.” Renly squeezed him tight, kissing away the tears one by one with a dry sob. “Of course I still love you. How could you ever think that I didn't?” Renly cringed at his own words even before they were out of his mouth though. Of course Loras had a thousand reasons to think that Renly didn't love him anymore. Loras too seemed to agree, for Renly's words merely seemed to make Loras cry harder.

That was too much for Renly and he couldn't stop the tears falling this time. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd lost control like this and he felt shame creeping to his cheeks even though it was only Loras sitting in front of him.

“Don't cry Renly.” Loras choked out. “I never meant for you to be upset. You were never supposed to be upset.”

“It's my fault both of us are upset.” Renly felt the shame creeping further into his cheeks and he buried his face in Loras' neck. “I have so much to apologise for Loras. I don't even know where to begin.” Renly could probably write a list of everything he'd done wrong since arriving in Kings Landing, all the things he'd do differently now if he could start all over again, and yet Renly didn't think there was a ream of parchment long enough.

Loras bit down on his lip and and wiped Renly's eyes with his sleeve. “It doesn't matter Renly." He said." You're here now. Now please, stop crying, for me.”

“It does matter” Renly whispered, dabbing with his own sleeve. “I know you're only here because I want you to be. And I've been terrible to you. And if you do want to go home, then-” He closed his eyes desperately to stop yet more tears falling. “-then I won't stop you. I'll understand.” He'd been more selfish than he ever had right to be when he'd brought Loras here to the capital. He'd wanted what had been best for himself and yet Renly had known even at the time that had he stopped to think about what was best for Loras, he'd have insisted he stay in Highgarden, with his family, with his dearest Margaery, the girl Loras quite evidently told everything too.

Loras glared at him though. “I don't want you to understand Renly."

Renly lifted his head. "You don't?"

"No. I want you to beg me to never leave and kick up a fuss if I even _think_ of leaving." His eyes narrowed. "I don't want you to give up on me like that, send me back to Highgarden just because you think you deserve it.”

“Well I do deserve it. You should have walked out on me weeks ago.”

“And yet I didn't.” The fire was back in Loras' eyes. “And I'm not going to.”

“But you said, told Margaery that-”

Loras hushed him. It was a good long time though before he spoke and it was clear he was choosing his words carefully. He bit down on his lower lip. “Renly," he started. "What you read, I was having a bad day, feeling sorry for myself. I never should have said those things. I don't actually think that.”

“What? That I don't love you anymore?” Renly felt tears well up again. He wiped them hastily away.

Loras looked so desolate that it made it worse. “Please Renly.” He wrapped his arms around him. “Don't think that. I should never have been telling Margaery that anyway. It's personal, between the two of us. I'm partly to blame too.”

“No It's my fault.” Renly sniffed. “For making you feel like that." Seeing Loras write such things to Margaery hadn't surprised him anyway. It had been evident almost from when he'd first met Margaery that she was quite aware of the goings on between Loras and Renly. She'd helped him look for him after all, the last time he and Loras had argued. That argument had hurt too and Renly stifled another sob.

Loras hushed him and pulled the covers over their head, drawing him close, the light from the candlelight flickering through the fabric of the bedclothes. “Calm down Renly. Please.”

Renly let him stroke his hair and kiss his face even though he knew he didn't deserve it. He'd virtually ignored Loras for weeks and now here he was with his hands in Renly's hair and reassuring words in his ear. It should be the other way round, Renly thought miserably.

Loras sighed softly when Renly stopped crying. “Come Renly. Let's talk about this. That's what you wanted after all." He continued when Renly nodded. "I'm not terribly upset Renly, it's just..."

"It's just what?" Renly asked even though he knew exactly what he'd done wrong. He knew too that Loras had been lying through his teeth when he'd told him that he wasn't terribly upset. Even so though, he was rather grateful for the lie.

"It's just...Well we used to do stuff together Renly. We'd see places and go on picnics, have breakfast together in your bed, have dinner." Loras sighed. "And I understand why we can't do a lot of those things now, that we couldn't dine like you do with your lords and ladies, but I really don't care if we do little more than eat bread and jam in your bed at three o clock in the morning, I just want something. _Anything._ ”

Renly nodded, hanging his head in shame. “I know Loras. I'm going to make it up to you.” He sighed. “I'll give up the small council position if you like.” He'd loathe to do it, not when he was getting so popular in the capital and yet if that was what Loras wanted, then he vowed that that was what he would do.

Loras shook his head though. “You don't want that.”

“It's not about what I want. It's about what you want right now.”

Loras sighed. “I want you to be happy Renly.”

“But you're not happy. I forgot your name day for God's sake.” Renly said blankly. “How did I forget? How is that even possible?”

Loras sighed and put his head in his hands. “Renly. I turned ten and five, not five. I shall forgive you.”

“But you must have been so miserable Loras.” Renly tried not to picture Loras waiting for him that evening and yet he couldn't help it, his mind swimming with images of Loras waiting in bed, looking expectantly at the door with every passing hour.

Loras sighed. “I won't lie. It was hard. It never occurred to me that you might have forgotten it was my name day until you didn't turn up." He bit his lip. "I waited for you all evening Renly.”

Renly cringed and burying his face in Loras' neck. “I'm so ashamed. And I missed your tourney too. Did you win?”

Loras nodded.

“You did?” Renly forced himself to smile. “You didn't unhorse Jaime Lannister did you?” That would top it off, he thought, if he'd missed Loras unhorse such an opponent.

“No.” Loras laughed weakly. “The hound did it for me in the semi-finals. Then I unhorsed him.”

“Well then you're obviously capable of it.” Renly managed.

“I know that.” Loras smiled and drew him close. “But I'm in no mood to talk about the Kingslayer. Not when you're here now.”

Renly sighed. “You're lovely.” He leant his forehead against Loras'. “I don't deserve you.”

Loras frowned. “You do.” He sighed. “Perhaps not these past few weeks. But you've been my closest friend for five years now and a lot more than that for two. I'm not going anywhere over the sake of a few weeks.”

Renly sighed and knotted his hands in Loras' hair. Those words warmed him and he let that warmth wash over him, basking in it until he could almost forget his guilt. Determinedly, he pushed away thoughts of Loras' harsh words today, his pained expressions, and tried to dwell instead on what Loras had just said, remembering the two of them as they once had been. He smiled as he pictured Loras, the squire that had insisted on following him round even as an impetuous ten year old, climbing into his bed almost every night even long before Renly had ever thought of bedding him.

Loras blew out the candle. “Stay?” he breathed and despite his confident words of earlier, Renly could tell he half expected Renly to say no.

“Of course I will." He could just about make out Loras' smile as the words came out of his mouth.


	76. Chapter 76

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I promised Saturday, and it's still Saturday in America right! I blame Wildknees for posting the last chapter of TIde's Turn just as I was editing... Also StickInsect reminded me of something the other day. I do do requests for this story, as long as they don't contradict canon. :) But it's been a while since anyone's asked for anything. So if you do have any scenes you want to see, just let me know and I shall be happy to oblige :) (and don't worry. I haven't forgotten that I owe some of you a Stannis and Loras confrontation...!)
> 
> Sorry it's been so long!

“This is going to help.” Loras insisted. He placed his palms on each of Renly's shoulder blades and pushed him back down against the bed. "Just hold still will you?"

“I’m trying.” Renly yelped as Loras rubbed salve into the cuts where he was most sore. “But it stings.” It had hurt at the time when Loras had dug his fingers into him yesterday, he had even bled, but now he thought it was much worse. The cuts stung when they rubbed against the bedclothes and he knew that no matter how fine a fabric he wore today that it would continue to sting. And to make matters worse, big purple bruises had already bloomed across the tops of his shoulders and up his neck. Renly was no fool- he knew that unless he wore full plate armour today, a good couple of them would be impossible to hide.

It made him want to stay in bed. He'd told Loras yesterday that he would give up the small council position for him if he so wanted and now he was tempted to follow through on his word. He was going to be ridiculed today and there was no way round it.

Loras seemed to sense his despair. "I'm sorry." He breathed against his back. "I didn't need to be so vicious with you. No matter what you'd done."

“I deserved it.” Renly groaned into the bed. And he had. That was the worst part of it. He ought not to be lying here in bed complaining like a child whilst Loras tended to him. He ought to be being made to be miserable, over and over again until Loras was satisfied that he'd learnt his lesson. 

“That's the twenty sixth time you've said that this morning." Loras said bluntly, getting comfortable astride Renly's back and dabbing salve on one of the more painful bruises at his neck.

Renly frowned into the pillow. "You counted?"

"Mm-hmm." Loras said, and although Renly couldn't see his face he just knew that Loras was biting down on his lip as he concentrated.

"But I did deserve it." Renly insisted.

"Twenty seven."

"But I _did_."

"Twenty eight."

Renly sighed. "I don't think I'll ever be able to apologise enough." He didn't think anyone could hate themselves more than he did right now, more than he had done last night. 

"Can we call it a day with the grovelling Renly?" Loras said, shifting slightly atop Renly's lower back. "If you make my count hit thirty then I'll set Margaery on you or something."

Renly laughed. He could imagine that Loras' sister could be truly terrifying when she wanted to be, especially to those who she felt had mistreated her precious Loras in some way or another. This was a fate he didn't wish to meet. Shutting his mouth, he forced himself to lie still under Loras' hands, enjoying the way Loras would run the tips of fingers across his skin when he wasn't busy rubbing what felt like salt into his wounds. That had always been a bit of a paradox to Renly. Loras fought like he was born with a sword in his hand and yet Renly never ceased to be amazed by quite how gentle those hands could be if Loras so wanted it. The skin on his palms was rough, the grip of a sword having long worn away any softness to Loras' hands, and yet right now they were the most gentle hands Renly could have imagined. He closed his eyes. Loras was running those hands down his spine now, bending to kiss the back of Renly's neck as he dabbed the salve onto the last of his bruises.

The kisses were a distraction, Renly knew, a distraction from the burn of the salve, and yet it was undeniably working. He didn't think he'd ever be able to concentrate properly on anything else when Loras was kissing him. Lying here now, and even with the unpleasant stinging sensation, Renly began to realise quite how much he'd missed this: just lounging around with Loras and doing nothing in particular. It was something they hadn't done for all too long, since well before they'd arrived in King's Landing.

Loras kissed his shoulder one last time before he sat up. “There you go.” He said. With that, he rolled off him and wrapped his arms around Renly's chest, Renly just sighing and tugging him closer. He almost opened his mouth to tell Loras how sorry he was and yet he stopped himself just in time. Instead, he just promised himself silently that he would never hurt this boy in his arms ever again, that he'd never risk losing the one thing he loved best for a second time. He'd been naive and insensitive and Loras was worth a lot more than that.

“I’ll stay if you want." He sighed against Loras' hair. "Not go to the small council meeting.”

Loras shook his head. “Go.” He said. “You should."

Renly buried his head in his shoulder. "Do I have to?"

Loras laughed, the sound low and warm in his ear. "Yes you have to." He kissed the top of Renly's head. "But come meet me afterwards? I just want to get out of this place, even if it's only for a few hours."

"Of course Loras." Renly breathed against his shoulder, biting back the urge to apologise once more. He didn't care if he had to tell Robert himself to fuck off this evening, he was going to be wherever Loras wanted him to be tonight.

 

.............

 

It was with more than a little bit of shame that Renly made his way to the small council chamber. The bruises on his neck were clearly visible and he knew that whilst he could claim that he'd walked into a door or something, that everybody would immediately see them for what they were. Even the lords of the small council would not be fooled, that prudish group of men, most of whom would never have personally experienced such a thing. Indeed, out of all of them, Littlefinger was the only man amongst the small council that Renly could have ever believed to have had his fair share of tumbles between the sheets. The man always claimed that he didn't mix business with pleasure and yet Renly refused to believe that Littlefinger didn't bed at least a good couple of his own prostitutes on a weekly basis. Excluding himself and Littlefinger thus, that left a grand total one eunuch, two sworn celibates, Jon Arryn, a man far too sensible for his own good, and Stannis. And Stannis didn't need any explanation, Renly reckoned.

He supposed he should have been glad that it was only the small council he was going to be ridiculed by and not the Iron Bank ambassadors, and yet Renly couldn't work up any enthusiam at all. At least with the Braavosi, Renly could be almost certain that would never have to see them again after the end of the week. The small council, however, he would have to see almost on a daily basis.

He was the last one to arrive and Renly groaned to see that Robert was actually present for once. And to Renly's great disappointment, he didn't seem to be quite drunk enough for there to be a decent chance of him not noticing the bruises on his neck.

Indeed, Robert glanced up as soon as Renly entered, raising an eyebrow and looking him up and down. “Good gods Renly,” He chortled. He looked almost proud, though, and patted the empty chair next to him. 

Renly just laughed and shrugged as casually as he could manage. "As if you can talk." He muttered to Robert as he sat down.

"That's no way to speak to your king." Stannis started to say and yet Robert seemed to find Renly's remark more than a little amusing. He silenced Stannis with a hand as he guffawed. Renly was unsurprised. Robert had always been very proud of what he called his conquests _off_ the battlefield. 

Littlefinger raised a arched eyebrow. “You’ll have to give me her name lord Renly, It appears I should be employing her.” There was nothing malicious about his tone but as he met Renly’s eye, a sly smile tugged at his lips. Renly just had to wonder how much he knew. He just laughed, thinking that the safest bet.

Robert clapped him on the shoulder. “And I was beginning to worry boy. That you’d turn out like him over there.” He gestured wildly at Stannis, turning to him "Did you know that our brother had such a feisty wench hiding up his sleeve?"

Stannis' eyes hardened and he said nothing.

Littlefinger gave a twisted smile. “Why so secretive Stannis? Please, if you know the mystery girl lord Renly’s got hidden away, please share.”

Stannis gritted his teeth and Renly cowered slightly. He knew how much his brother could say and he held his breath. He relaxed a little when Stannis kept his silence.

Robert laughed. "You don't know 'er either then?"

Stannis' jaw tightened. “I don’t.” He met Renly's eye across the table and Renly could tell he wasn't happy. All the same, he breathed a sigh of relief.

Robert wasn't finished. “Or worse.” He said, clapping Renly once more on the shoulder. “You could have turned out like him.” He waved a hand in Vary's direction. 

Varys tittered slightly.“I admit." He said quietly. "My condition is not one I would wish on anyone. Friend or enemy.” He folded his powdered hands in his lap and inclined his head towards the stack of papers in the centre of the table. “Your grace, shall we?”

The meeting was a boring one and yet thankfully it was not a long one. The business with the Iron Bank was almost concluded now. All that was left was for Littlefinger to sign the necessary documents this evening, and whilst Jon Arryn did pleasantly suggest that Renly help him with it, Renly stood firm and merely apologised, saying he was otherwise occupied. He'd worried a little about having to say this and Robert winking at him from the head of the table aided matters greatly.

Renly spent a good long while collecting his papers so that he'd have a good chance at not having to exchange any more witticisms with Littlefinger. Luck wasn't on his side, though, and he'd barely walked out of the door before he found himself staring into very familiar blue eyes.

Renly cringed, supposing he should say something. "“Um, Stannis?” He mumbled. "Thank you, I guess. 

Stannis looked as awkward as Renly felt, and he gritted his teeth. “That will be the last time I lie for you” He said stiffly.

 

  ………

 

 Loras had asked him to meet him at the stables after the meeting and yet Renly reckoned he still had a little while before he would be expected and so he headed back to his chambers with the aim of changing into clothes a little more comfortable for riding. 

He was almost to his chambers, though, when he heard voices in the corridor up ahead. They were familiar voices, those of his men, and he didn't think anything of it until he heard his own name echoing about the stone walls. It was Ser Guyard talking and from what it sounded like, he was informing Renly's squire that their duties would not be required tonight, that their lord would be going out riding. Indeed, before the small council meeting he'd asked Ser Guyard himself to give his squire the message.

“But he’s surely not going on his own?” He heard his squire ask incredulously, concern thick in his voice. Renly stopped at that, pausing in the corridor to listen. He had hoped that his men wouldn't give much thought to who he was going out riding with, that they'd just be grateful to have the evening free from their duties to do as they pleased, to drink and whore as they liked. He supposed, though, that he had underestimated quite how diligent his squire was. He was all but useless with a sword, but he was a sensible boy, with his head firmly planted on his shoulders. He knew all too well that to go out riding in the capital by one's self was just simply not done. 

One of his men laughed. “I doubt it very much that he'll be going alone.” He said, and Renly recognised the voice as belonging to Ser Andrew. “He’ll be going with Tyrell.”

Renly winced. He had hope that Ser Andrew was referring to the fact that he and Loras were evidently good friends, and yet he wasn't particularly hopeful. He'd always thought his men gloriously oblivious as to his night-time activities and his heart thumped in his chest as he waited to see if he was about to be proved wrong.

“But he’s not Lord Renly’s squire anymore." Alyn insisted. "I am.”

One of the men guffawed. “Yes, you're his squire all right, but you don’t take it up the arse from him.”

All of the men laughed and Renly put his head in his hands, leaning heavily against the wall. He was only glad he couldn't see his squire's face. He imagined he would be reeling, not quite knowing how to take that piece of information. Indeed, Renly couldn't make out Alyn's voice within the throng of laughter. He knew the boy well enough now to know that he would most like be standing stock still and looking a little confused.

One of the men spoke then, his voice loud. “Be careful there. Grandison’s still got a five inch scar from the last time he took the piss out of Loras Tyrell.”

Renly heard Grandison snort. “That I do.” There was the soft sound of hands on fabric and Renly supposed he was rolling up his sleeve to show off his injury. “See." He said. "Slashed me to the bone he did. I bled for days. Almost lost my arm."

That was a lie, Renly knew. Loras had indeed cut Narbert Grandison to the bone, but there had never been a possibility of him losing his arm. As far as Renly remembered, the boy had been up and about as usual after a couple of days.

“What exactly was it you said to him again?" One of the men inquired. "Something about his brother being flattened in that tourney?"

Grandison laughed. “I can't remember my exact words. But that was part of it. I definitely called our lord a couple of names I shouldn't probably repeat now, and I did ask him whether he would be volunteering to bend over for his precious lord next, seeing as that Dornish party had fucked off back south." He snorted. "Little did I know at the time that my words were truer than I'd thought. He was probably already bending over him even then."

One of the other men cut in. “How do you know it’s not the other way round eh Narbert?” He laughed. "Tyrell and his infamous lance."

Grandison snorted. “Tyrell might be an uptight bastard, but he knows his place.” He laughed loudly. "You know, I even got an apology from him the day after, obviously insisted upon. And if that doesn't prove how willing he is to bend over for our lord, then I don't know what would."

Ser Guyard spoke. "You were lucky not to get disciplined for that Narbert, speaking so of our lord."

Grandison laughed. "As if Tyrell would have squealed. He'd have died before he'd have repeated those rumours about that bastard from Godsgrace and lord Renly." He chuckled, his voice harsh. "Our lord could probably tell Tyrell to slash his own wrists and he'd do it."

There was a murmur of laughter and then another of the knights spoke. "So Estermont," He said, evidently talking to Alyn. "Genuinely, you never had any idea?"

His squire didn't answer but Renly suspected he was shaking his head.

One of them laughed. "Any of you ever heard them at it?" He asked. "I'm told Tyrell makes more noise than a maid with a cock inside her."

Renly just stood there silently as he listened to their laughter. It hurt to hear his men talking about Loras like that, making a mockery of him and using the pleasure Renly gave him as the basis for their amusement. It made him want to reveal his presence and discipline them for it, and yet he knew he'd be doing nobody any favours, not even Loras. He supposed that he ought to have put two and two together and realised that his men would have worked out what went on between him and Loras behind closed doors. The rumours about him and that Dornish boy had indeed been prolific. It was only one step further to make assumptions about him and Loras. 

It was then that Alyn spoke. "I've never heard anything." He said defiantly and in spite of everything Renly had to feel a little proud of the way his squire was trying to defend him. "And I'm right next door."

Ser Andrew laughed softly. "Trust me, Alyn, regardless of what you've heard or not heard, it'll be Tyrell he's going out riding with tonight."

"What?" Alyn's voice was quiet. "So they can...?"

One of them laughed. “Nah, they’ll probably sit under the stars or something and tell each other how much they love each other.” There was a pause as his companions snorted. "You laugh but I was being serious. One of the chambermaids I bedded even told me she'd seen them holding hands once."

Renly just sighed silently to himself and turned to go back the way he'd come. He supposed he could do without changing his clothes. He was a few feet from the door when he heard Ser Guyard speak again.

“But mind you keep all that to yourself boy." He was saying, evidently to Alyn. "Lord Renly's our lord, a good one at that, one we should be proud to serve. It’s our duty to keep his secrets, whatever they may be.”

He heard the murmur of agreement and Renly wondered whether he ought to despair or feel reassured.

 

 .............

 

 Loras was waiting for him outside in the stables, both their horses tacked up for them. He grinned at Renly when he saw him and handed him the reins. "I warn you Renly, my count is being carried over from this morning. If I hear another pipe out of you about grovelling, then-"

  
"Then yes, you're setting Margaery on me." Renly laughed. "I get it." He smiled back at him. He didn't think he could ever be grateful enough that Loras was wiping the slate clean for him this morning. He'd expected Loras to still be a little furious with him in the morning, as would have been his right, and yet he'd refused to talk anymore of it. They didn't need to, he'd said, not unless Renly was planning on doing it all again. 

"Where are we going then?" He asked as they made their way out the back of the stables, away from prying eyes. He tried not to dwell too much on that, though. He'd told himself that he would forget all about such things tonight, forget about the conversation he'd just overheard.

“I don’t know.” Loras admitted from the saddle. “I have no master plan.”

“What?” Renly laughed. “But you always have something in mind.” This was true. From his experience, Loras was never at a loss of what to do or where to go. He always had something planned. He went through life with a purpose, with a goal, rather than just letting the current carry him as so many men did.

"Not today." Loras said bluntly. "And I don't care where we go, just as long as you come with me." 

Renly just smiled at him. He couldn't help but feel warmed by quite how forgiving Loras had decided to be today. He usually was so good at holding grudges, at staying angry, and yet more than anything, Loras just seemed to be desperate for everything to go back to normal today, for them to spend time together as they always had done. Renly could only be grateful, and as they rode together out of the city, he felt like a weight was suddenly lifting off his shoulders. He realised just quite how much he'd missed having Loras' company, it being just the two of them together. When all was said and done, Loras just seemed to understand him in a way nobody else ever could.

 

 ………

 

“I’ve never been further north than the capital.” Renly admitted as they followed the small winding road that curved along Blackwater Bay and led along the coast to Rosby. It was a pretty route and a quiet one, much less frequented than the wider Kingsroad that lay slightly to the west. They'd gone a good couple of miles now and come across nobody, a fact that they both took comfort in.

“I hadn’t either,” Loras said. “Until I went to the Twins." He stopped his mare then and looked about to dismount, eyes fixed on a fallen tree that lay a few feet from the Rosby road. It wasn't what Renly would have had in mind for two men as fine as Loras and himself, and yet it did look to have a lovely view over the Blackwater. The water looked deceptively appealing today, sparkling almost in the last of the day's sunshine. 

"You ever wanted to go north, Loras?" Renly asked as he and Loras dismounted and tied their horses to a branch. "See Winterfell? Stand on The Wall?"

Loras shrugged and sat down, stretching his legs out. "Not really. Sounds cold."

Renly grinned. "You don't say?"

Loras just rolled his eyes and patted the log next to him, leaning heaving against Renly's shoulder when he complied. "You know where I do want to go, though?" Loras said matter-of-factly. “The Ruby Ford. I’ve always wanted to see that. See where Prince Rhaegar had his breastplate caved in.”

“And so we shall.” Renly laughed. “We shall go together sometime.” He was unsurprised that Loras was more interested in seeing a stretch of water where an important battle had once been fought than seeing what was said to be the most awe-inspiring structure built by man. Renly suspected that even as a child, Loras had probably been more interested in hearing about knights than the legendary Others who haunted the dreams of northern children. 

They sat for a while, Renly thinking of how many times Robert had recounted the Battle of the Trident to him as he ran a hand through Loras' curls. “You know, though, Loras," He said, a sudden thought occuring to him that he couldn't resist voicing. "What you’d need to be able to do to go fishing for rubies, though.”

Loras raised an eyebrow. He didn't look impressed. “Yes.” he said reluctantly. “I’d need to be able to swim.” He glared a little at Renly and Renly wondered suddenly whether he'd overstepped his boundaries, whether Loras was going to revoke the forgiveness he'd so graciously granted this morning.

Renly grinned a little sheepishly at him, tipping his head back to feel the last warmth of the sun's rays against his face.

"I said I wanted to see it, though." Loras insisted vehemently. "Not get in it."

"What's the fun in that, though." Renly laughed back. "-to see the Ruby Ford and not even _attempt_ to find a ruby? What's the point in going?"

"I shall attempt from my horse." Loras said decisively. "With one of those nets that fishermen use with trailing behind me. Or better still, I shall sit on the bank in the sunshine and watch you dive for rubies for me. Preferably naked."

Renly laughed and pulled him closer. "A strange sight we should make."

"A strange sight _you_ would make." Loras smirked up at him. "I dare say if anyone saw you and asked me if I knew you, I should deny it."

"You'd deny knowing me?" Renly tried to look as hurt as possible, difficult when he was still imagining himself wading naked through the Ruby Ford. The eldest Baratheon of Storm's End had won his crown there, and yet Renly could just see it now, crowds of the smallfolk gathered on the banks to watch the youngest Baratheon fishing for rubies like a child in nought but his skin.

"If you were naked in the Ruby Ford?" Loras smirked, amusement in his eyes. "Yes. Quite probably I'd deny knowing you."

Renly laughed and pushed his hair out of his eyes. "Really, though, you should be able to swim."

"I can swim." Loras protested. "You saw to that yourself. Many times."

"Yes, you can swim about twenty feet. I'll grant you that." Renly laughed. "It's not really good enough, though, if you get thrown of a boat or something." Smiling wryly, he wondered if his parents had been able to swim, if they'd tried to escape the wreckage that had been the Windproud, or if the waves had taken them instantly. He supposed, though, that there were places where the water was so treacherous that whether you could swim or not was meaningless. He imagined that Shipbreaker Bay in the midst of a storm was one of those places. Gazing over the Blackwater now, still as glass, he couldn't help but think how odd it was that this bay could be so calm whilst the next bay along was anything but.

He glanced at Loras, surprised to see him shifting a little awkwardly, following Renly's gaze.

“What’s wrong?” Renly asked, wondering whether he ought to try grovelling again.

Loras inclined his head towards the water. “You’re not going to are you?”

Renly laughed as he caught his drift. “Throw you in there?” He grinned and wrapped an arm tightly around Loras' shoulder. “Don’t fret. I love you too much to do that. ”

Loras looked a little relieved, if a little confused. "You didn't love me enough not to throw me in Shipbreaker bay, though. That's the most dangerous of the lot."

Renly laughed. "I'd never have let anything happen to you." He grinned. "I wouldn't throw you in Blackwater, not because it's dangerous, but because..." He trailed off and raised an eyerow." Have you never wondered, Loras, where all the shit in the streets of Kings Landing gets washed into?"

Loras wrinkled his nose. "Fair enough. So fear of drowning isn't enough to spare me, but dirty water is?"

Renly laughed. "Essentially, yes."

Loras rolled his eyes and yet leant into his shoulder anyway. Renly just smiled down at him. Somehow, even just being a couple of miles of out King's Landing helped him to clear his head enough to be able to see things as they always had been, to realise where his priorities should lie.

 

........ 

 

 It wasn't long before the sun set and Renly laid his head against the top of Loras' as the sun disappeared behind them to the west, the Blackwater cast into shadow as it lived up to its name. Smiling, Renly swivelled round on the log, pulling Loras round with him. It was nowhere as glorious as the sunset had been that time in Oldtown, and yet still, Renly couldn't help but admire the vibrant oranges and reds as the sun disappeared into the horizon, whether into the Riverlands or the Reach, he couldn't be sure, the light too far gone to be able to make out the winding path of the Blackwater Rush that marked the boundary between the two. 

You know, Loras." Renly said, putting his arm back around him. "You were at Storm's End for four years and I never took you up to the battlements to see the sun rise. That's terrible of me." He sighed. "Why did I never take you?"

Loras raised an eyebrow, and yet he was smiling. "You want to know why Renly?" He asked, a smirk playing at his face. "It's because I had difficulty getting you out of bed before midday. Let alone getting you up for dawn."

Renly laughed. He couldn't deny that. "Well next time we're there together. We shall watch it." He tilted Loras' face up and kissed him lightly. "Hold me to that will you?"

Loras nodded, slipping an arm round Renly's waist to lean back into his side. He looked happier than Renly had seen him look in a long time, and he couldn't help but bend to kiss him once more, the dying sunlight painting vibrant patterns across his beautiful face.

"You know, Loras," Renly said after a while, once the sun had disappeared for good behind the horizon and the moon was high in the sky, the stars glittering above them. ""I overheard people talking about us today." He hadn't planned on dwelling on this tonight and yet he knew that Loras would undoubtedly make him feel better about it, that after talking to Loras, he'd be able to go to bed a little reassured.

"And what did they say?" Loras pressed himself further into the crook of Renly's arm, the warmth in the air having long disappeared with the sun. 

Renly sighed, and unpinning his cloak, draped it around both of their shoulders, the fabric easily wide enough to go round them both when they were tucked together as they were. "My guard were telling my squire not to worry about me going out riding alone, because I'd almost certainly be going with you."

Loras snorted. "Well to be fair, they're right. I'd never let anything happen to you." He patted his hip where Renly knew his sword would be, the same sword that Renly had given him for his thirteenth name day, over two years ago now. Renly had assumed he'd get a fancier one when he was knighted, and yet so far, he had not.  

Renly smiled, resting his head on top of Loras'. "I know you wouldn't."

"What else did they say?" Loras asked, curiosity lacing his voice. "I doubt they left it at that."

Renly sighed and filled him in, running his hand through his hair as he recounted how embarrassing it had been.  

To his surprise, Loras laughed when he was done, his smirk just about visible in the moonlight. "I'd forgotten about that scar I gave Grandison." He said, sounding more than a little proud. "I did cut him to the bone. It was the most satisfying thing I've ever done, and I don't think I'll ever properly forgive you for making me apologise to him."

"You know, Loras." Renly said softly. "You never told me what he'd said to you. Not exactly." Loras had told him of Grandison's remarks about Willas, and of the fact that he'd made allusions to Renly's tryst with the Dornish boy, but he'd left out any mention of him himself. 

"I didn't lie." Loras offered. 

Renly laughed. "But you didn't tell me all of it."

"I know I didn't." Loras rolled his eyes. "I purposefully didn't. If I had, then everything I took pleasure in would have been gone before I could have made you see reason. I'd have been sent back to my own chambers every evening, sat with the squires at dinner, made to walk behind you properly, just so you could be sure that people wouldn't think you were going to bend me over like apparently you did that dornish boy."

Renly sighed. "You know me too well." He'd indeed have done exactly that.

"I know I do." Loras shrugged. "So I chose my words carefully." He nudged Renly in the ribs and smiled. "Try not to worry about what they said Renly. It's only a few of your personal guard, not the realm, and your men love you. They obviously don't think any less of you for it." He smirked."At least they don't think that all we do is rut against each other like wild animals. What was it you said they said we'd be doing tonight?"

"Sitting under the stars and confessing our love to each other." Renly cringed. "They were making fun, Loras."

Loras glanced up at the stars, mischief clear in his eyes. "You know what Renly." He said gravely. "I think I have something I'd like to tell you, to confess to you. The moment seems right, the stars look l-"

"Don't you dare say it." Renly clamped his hand over Loras' mouth and held it there. 

"What?" Loras pried Renly's hand from his mouth and raised an eyebrow at him.   
  
Renly laughed and grinned sheepishly down at him.

"Fine." Loras rolled his eyes. "I shan't say it. But you know it's true." He pulled Renly close and wrapped Renly's cloak back around them from where it had slipped, tucking it carefully around Renly's shoulders. "Let them laugh." He said, taking Renly's chin in his hands and tilting his face down to look at him. "See if we care. If it has to be just me and you against the world, then let it be so."


	77. Chapter 77

The Iron Bank ambassadors left the following evening, reluctantly having granted Robert another loan of five hundred thousand gold that Robert would no doubt be spending on some hunt or another within the month. The small council became less busy with their departure, and Renly put his efforts now into finding a balance between doing enough in the capital so that Stannis didn’t accuse him of not pulling his weight and yet doing little enough so that he could still see Loras in the evenings.

And so slowly, he and Loras found a routine that suited them. They’d alternate between spending the night each other's chambers to try and minimise suspicion and Renly found he was indeed a lot happier for seeing Loras every day. He supposed now that overhearing his men talking about them had probably been beneficial for him in the long run. Renly imagined that it was undeniably futile now to go to great lengths to keep them from finding out what they evidently already knew. He forced himself, thus, not to worry too much about it. And if occasionally, Loras panted his name far too loud in the middle of the night or if he gasped loudly against Renly's chest when Renly was inside him, none of his men mentioned it. Even his squire said not a word, not of that, or of anything involving Loras something which surprised Renly, seeing as Alyn Estermont had always seemed a curious, inquisitive type of boy. He imagined that one of his me had warned his squire from mentioning it to him, most likely Ser Guyard.

It wasn't as it always had been back in Storm’s End and yet Renly got used to it. And whilst his brothers drove him almost up the wall at every small council meeting, somehow, Loras managed to keep him sane through it all. He'd listen to him as he'd rant about how yet another decision seemed to have been made evidently in the Lannisters' interest, or about how Stannis didn't seem to even know the meaning of a compromise. He'd even let Renly curse against his shoulder late into the night, helpfully supplying new insults to use whenever Renly ran out.

And it wasn't all that bad, Renly supposed. He got to give dinners most evenings and wear lovely clothes all whilst being complimented left right and centre, and afterwards he'd get Loras too, either hot and sticky underneath him, or else curled up asleep against his chest with his hands still in Renly's hair.

Really, Renly supposed, life in King's Landing wasn't too bad, and yet it was all too soon that Loras came into his chambers one evening with more than a little bit of an apologetic look on his face. Renly was already in bed and he knew exactly what the expression on Loras' face meant. It meant that a tourney was coming up, a tourney that wasn't in King's Landing, a tourney he would be leaving for.

“I’m leaving for a tourney in a few days.” Loras said as he came in, confirming Renly's fears as if he could read Renly's mind. Quite possibly he could, Renly reckoned. It was very rare that he ever had to explain something to Loras. He just always seemed to know. He could read the expressions on his face like a map.

Renly sighed and patted the bed next to him. “Where are you going?”

Loras kicked off his boots and climbed into bed, still in his clothes. “Bronzegate.” He said, looking a little sheepish, an odd expression on Loras' usually haughty face.

“No?” Renly breathed, a little disbelieving. He didn’t think it could get any worse than that. Loras leaving even temporarily was already terrible enough as it was, but the fact that he was going to Bronzegate, that small market town that all but sat in the shadow of Storm’s End- that was just unnecessarily cruel. Renly had to wonder what he'd done to deserve that.

Loras laughed. “Yes.” He wrapped his arms around Renly’s neck. “Sorry, but I can’t arrange tourneys around how homesick they make you feel.”

“But you’re not allowed to go back to the Stormlands without me.” Renly insisted, knowing he was whining pointlessly. “That’s just unfair.” He wrapped his arms tightly around Loras' waist as if that might be able to stop him leaving. It briefly crossed his mind to just hold him there, refusing to let him get up until it would be too late for him to make it to the tourney in time. It was an appealing prospect.

Loras raised an eyebrow. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

Renly rolled his eyes. “Don’t lie. It’ll be ages before you’ll be back. And even if it's not, it shall feel like ages." He imagined that time would stretch on unbearably in Kings Landing if Loras wasn't there. He'd have probably shoved a sword through Stannis by the time Loras got back, or worse, he'd have lost his temper and told Robert the hard truth that he was a whoring drunkard who might as well save the Lannisters the effort and _give_ the throne to his wife. Without Loras to vent to, both of these were a definite possibility, Renly thought.

Loras laughed. “You’ll cope. I shall write to you every day if you like.”

Renly grinned. He did enjoy getting letters from Loras. They could provide him with hours of entertainment. “I want to hear about everything you do then. Promise?”

“Yes.” Loras leant his head against Renly’s shoulder. "I shall tell you of everything I do, and when I am there, I shall think of you with each victory." He kissed the hollow at the base of Renly's throat fondly, hands warm around him.

Renly laughed. “And shall you visit Penrose for me?”

“You’re joking?” Loras laughed with more than a hint of disdain in his voice. “As if.”

Renly rolled his eyes. He imagined that Penrose would be quite pleased to see Loras, if only for the chance to break the monotony a little by winding him up, and yet Renly doubted that Loras would see it like that. The two of them had always rubbed each other up the wrong way, and usually it only took a couple of minutes in each other's company before one of them had insulted the other. Renly could only imagine how much worse it would be too when he wasn't there to diffuse the tension. He had been the only one in Storm's End who'd been able to smooth Loras' feathers down after Penrose had ruffled them.

“I don't think I could do it anyway.” Loras admitted. “Go back to Storm’s End without you. I’ll manage Bronzegate, but I think Storm’s End would be a bridge too far.”

Renly laughed. He wouldn't have associated Loras with nostalgia and yet he supposed that Loras had been as fond of those endless days they'd spent in the sun as he had, back when Renly's duties had been few and far between and they'd paid heed to nothing and no-one. They'd done as they pleased then, spending whole afternoons out riding or by the sea, usually bickering over something or other. Renly sighed, smiling to himself. He missed those days.

“Are you looking forward to it?” He asked. "Going back?"

Loras laughed. "I'm not looking forward to being back in Stormlands without you. But I'm looking forward to the tournament. I’m going to fight in the melee this time.” Indeed, his face had lit up at the prospect. There was nothing more exciting to Loras, it seemed, than getting to hack at other people with some kind of blunt weapon.

Renly smiled. “Your first melee.” He sighed. "I wish I could be there to watch it." He said that, and yet he wasn't sure it was true. He imagined that he'd be on the edge of his seat the entire time if he watched Loras in a melee. He knew that Loras was capable, invincible practically, and yet still he imagined that at least the first couple of times would be difficult.

Loras rolled his eyes. "I shall fight in more." He laughed and unbuttoned his shirt a little to press his bare skin against Renly's chest. “Have you ever fought in one? Before I squired for you, I mean.”

Renly laughed. “Gods no.” Robert tried to convince him each and every time he held a tournament that he should fight in the melee, pick up the Baratheon war hammer and show the crowds that the Baratheons still indeed had the fury, and yet the idea had never even tempted him. At least with the joust, he got a chance to show off his armour and be cheered by the small folk. In the melee the smallfolk were barely able to make out who was who and whatever you had chosen to wear would all but be obscured from view in the heaving crowd of fighters.

Loras rolled his eyes at his expression. "I shouldn't have bothered asking should I?" He laughed, and with that he pulled Renly close to go to sleep.

 

...........

The next week dragged on slowly without Loras to amuse him and Renly threw himself back into his duties, writing letters to this lord and that and even renewing his efforts with Janos Slynt, efforts he quickly found were a complete waste of time. He was quite evidently corrupt through and through and Renly could have produced more evidence than could fit in his chambers. When he even brought up the subject with Robert, though, he just snorted and told him to stop turning into Stannis with all this talk of justice.

He even tried once more to push for Gregor Clegane to be trialled and Robert really did lose his temper that time, ordering Renly from the room and telling him to keep out of his sight for the next week unless he wanted to be locked in his own gaols. And so Renly gave up on the idea, and that evening he sat down to write what was likely to be a very uncomfortable letter to the Red Viper informing him that King had rejected his requests for Ser Gregor Clegane to be put to trial.

He sighed as he picked up his quill, wondering what to write. He'd managed to forget most of his trip to Dorne, and yet to pen a letter to the man who'd made his life a misery for a good couple of weeks was more difficult than he would have thought. He settled for making no allusion to the fact that he'd ever been to Dorne at all, keeping everything very formal and merely giving his sincerest apologies that the king had not seen fit to look into the matter further.

Part of him very much hoped Oberyn would not reply.

Loras, on the other hand, did keep his promise of writing every day, and whilst Renly couldn't really write back, not knowing where to direct the ravens as Loras travelled across the Stormlands, Loras' letters did make him laugh.

The first letter had been a been nothing more than Loras pulling his leg, though. He'd taken Renly's request to tell him everything rather literally. A little too literally, Renly had thought. He'd informed Renly of exactly how many travellers they'd passed on the road, what he had eaten for lunch, and described even in vivid detail what the landlady who served them dinner had been wearing. In fact, Renly had received an entire roll of parchment of such mundane details, many of which Renly suspected Loras had made up. He'd had to roll his eyes at it all, and yet at the end Loras had told him how much he missed him, and so Renly guessed that made up for him doing his best to wind Renly up beforehand.

Avoiding Robert, too, was relatively easy, considering the fact that Robert didn't deign to turn up to any of that weeks small council meetings. Instead, he had messages sent to Jon Arryn with his orders, written in an unsteady hand. Renly didn't know whether he was purposefully avoiding him and yet he decided he didn't care. Either way, Robert would calm down and would forget all about their disagreement by the end of the week. His eldest brother was quite unlike Stannis in that he didn't hold grudges. Indeed, he had pardoned more lords and knights than anybody could have counted after he won his crown.

It was at the end of one of these Robert-less meetings, though, that he overheard Littlefinger and Ser Barristan talking. Usually, he wouldn't have paid any mind and yet they caught his attention when he realised that Littlefinger was talking about the tourney in Bronzegate, a tourney which had already happened several days ago and yet which Renly was still waiting for news of. He hadn't had a letter from Loras since the day before yesterday and that had been dated the morning of tourney. He would have expected to hear from him by now.

“So you didn't fancy entering then?” Littlefinger was asking.

Selmy shook his head. “I have duties here. A king to guard.”

Renly had to smile. He couldn't help but respect Ser Barristan for his unyielding loyalty. Anyone else would probably resent their Kingsguard vows if they had a king such as Robert to guard, and yet Ser Barristan just kept plodding along, following his orders without question. Renly had to wonder how he'd got through life before he'd been named to the Kingsguard, how he'd coped without orders to tell him what to do.

“Sounds like it was a very eventful one, though," Littlefinger smirked, "From what I hear. You do wonder whether they should let the Clegane brothers fight don’t you? So vicious. Someone always gets hurt.” He sighed dramatically, twirling his mocking bird brooch with a lazy hand. "And Mace Tyrell seems to have such bad luck with sons and tourneys."

Renly just froze. He was quite sure that he'd been meant to hear this conversation. He knew all too well that Littlefinger was playing him, playing him like he played those foolish men who parted with more gold than they could afford each time they visited his brothels, and yet Renly couldn't help but want to take his words seriously. Littlefinger couldn't have made it up entirely and Renly couldn't help but let the unimaginable run through his head. Despite his best efforts, he was picturing Loras wounded, lying broken somewhere, or worse, not moving at all, not breathing. It made his breath catch in his throat and his blood freeze in his veins.

Out of the corner of his eye he caught Littlefinger smiling in his direction, that sly, twisted smile that he wore so very often when he was up to no good. It was a test, Renly knew. Littlefinger was dangling bait in front of him, daring him to take it.

Usually Renly didn't like to rise to the bait, and yet today he thought he'd just have to make an exception. And so playing right into Littlefinger's hands, he made a tenuous excuse to Robert, who had indeed forgotten all about their confrontation, and he and his men set off for Storm's End that very evening.

 

…….

 

Lord Buckler himself met Renly at the gates of Bronzegate, mounted on a magnificent sorrel mare. He seemed in good spirits which reassured Renly's frayed nerves a little. He'd fretted silently the entire way here and yet he doubted that lord Buckler would be quite so cheery if there had been anyone killed during his tourney. It wasn't rare to have a fatality, and yet usually it would cast a bit of a sombre mood over the whole event.

“Lord Renly” He greeted him warmly, looking a little surprised even so. “To what do I owe the immense pleasure?”

Renly forced himself to laugh. It was times like this that he was glad that he'd grown up around court, that he knew how to hide how he was really feeling. “I'm on my way home." He told lord Buckler confidently, glad indeed that this was plausible enough. "And yet I hear that one of my good friends has gone and got himself injured lord Buckler." He laughed. "An old squire of mine. Ser Loras Tyrell. Is it so?"

He could feel the stares of his men on him, and yet he kept the smile upon his face. None of them had questioned him on their sudden return to Storm's End; they hadn't even said anything when Renly had told him they would be stopping at Bronzegate. He knew, though, that they had been curious, and this exchange with Lord Buckler would be provide all the answers they needed. He refused to look at them as Lord Buckler nodded and had their horses taken to the stables.

He was pleased when Lord Buckler suggested he walk with him, and he beckoned for Alyn to follow his guards to the stables as he followed the lord of Bronzegate towards his halls. With his seat's proximity to Storm's End, Lord Buckler was a lord he knew relatively well and got on with, and yet today, Renly had no interest in conversing with him. The lord still hadn't mentioned how badly Loras was injured, and Renly knew he wouldn't be able to relax until he knew. He knew that he'd most certainly have been informed if Loras was in any real danger and yet he wasn't quite in the mood to think logically.

He was pleased when the lord broached the subject himself as soon as they were through the inner gates, the works of bronze that gave the holdfast its name. “I assure you Ser Loras has received every possible attention lord Renly." He said jovially. "Would you like me to take you to him?”

“You're too kind.” Renly said, forcing the words out. Lord Buckler was evidently more than honoured to have been paid a visit by his liege lord and Renly didn't want to ruin that by being short with him. He prided himself on being revered by his bannermen and he didn't want that to change.

Lord Buckler led him to a pleasant room on the ground floor in which Loras was evidently being looked after. It was a circular room, with a view over the bay and Renly tried to not breathe a sigh of relief as soon as he was inside. Loras was lying on a bed in the middle of the room and Renly silently thanked the gods as he noted that he didn't look too worse for wear. There was no blood, hardly any bandages even, and aside from the slightly awkward position in which he was lying and the fact that he was in a maester's room, Renly wouldn't have been able to tell at all that there was anything the matter with him. He could have quite easily been simply asleep.

The maester tending him looked up as they entered. He was a young man, probably not all that much older than himself, Renly mused, his face beardless and smooth. He was evidently fresh out of the citadel and Renly could see a thick book of medicine lying open on a nearby table, its pages dusty and which he had most likely been consulting before they came in.

“My lords.” He bowed, seemingly rather flustered at seeing the lord paramount of the Stormlands appear without notice before him. “I assume you are here to inquire about Ser Loras?”

Renly nodded and thanked him. Even before the maester said anything, he was quite sure now that Littlefinger had been all but having him on entirely when he'd ensured that Renly had overheard his conversation with Ser Barristan, and yet Renly found he didn't care, not in the slightest. He'd quite certainly made a fool of himself and he'd no doubt confirmed any suspicions the master of coin had, and yet Renly was glad to be at Loras' bedside. Even if Loras was clearly in no real danger, it was odd to see him lying in a maester's room being tended to. He was always so vivacious, so full of life, and yet now he looked pale, lying as docile as a lamb on the bed. He didn't even stir as they came in and Renly could see that his breathing was shallow, his chest rising and falling like a butterfly flapping its wings.

“Well Ser Loras seems to have broken his collarbone here.” The maester was saying, gesturing between Loras' shoulders. “And from the pain he's been having breathing I think he may have also cracked a rib slightly." He faltered a little. "Though I must admit I can't be sure of this. Perhaps it might be best to acquire a second opinion...” He trailed off self consciously.

“Is it serious?” Renly gently prompted, trying to put the maester at ease. He had to admit too that he knew nothing of broken ribs and collarbones. He'd never broken any of his own bones before, and nor had he ever seen anyone who had broken anything of the sort. He peered a little sceptically at Loras. He was quite evidently shirtless beneath the bedsheets, and Renly could see that he appeared to be bandaged around the chest.

“Not at all my lord." The maester assured him. These bones heal rapidly.” This time Renly did breathe a sigh of relief, cursing Littlefinger silently in his head as the maester glanced furtively at the open book. “He should be back on his feet within no time. I've put his arm in a sling to try and prevent movement, and I've given him milk of the poppy for the pain, but otherwise all he needs is rest.”

Renly nodded. He should have known that there was no way Loras would lie so quietly without even so much as stirring whilst people talked loudly around him, not without the aid of a maester. Renly wondered how much of the concoction they'd had to give him to even get him to stay in the maester's room. 

He sighed. “Thank you for your time Maester. I'm sure Ser Loras is grateful. ” Renly smiled warmly at him, imagining that Loras was probably not at all very grateful at being told to rest. “But would it be possible to move him do you think? I know he wouldn't wish to trespass on Bronzegate's good hospitality any longer.”

The Maester beamed, evidently pleased to have been asked explicitly for advice. “Of course my lord. Not on horseback but certainly in a wheelhouse. The jolts of the road may cause him pain but I can give him more milk of the poppy to make him sleep.”

Lord Buckler spoke up. “You may have use of my wheelhouse if it please you lord Renly. I've used it but thrice in the past year at least. I shall hardly miss it for a few weeks.”

“You have my thanks.” Renly smiled at the both of them, pleased that they had been so obliging. He had been about to fetch Alyn and have him send for the wheelhouse at Storm's End, a very old thing that trundled along and hadn't been used since his parents were alive, and yet this, he supposed, would be much more convenient.

He would very much have liked to sit with Loras even if he was asleep, and yet Renly couldn't refuse as Lord Buckler insisted he and his men dine with them. Reluctantly, thus, he followed lord Buckler to the dining chambers, prepaparing himself for having to make more small talk than he was in the mood for.

All in all, though, it wasn't actually as bad as Renly had been expecting. It was a meal hastily prepared, for a number far greater than the kitchens could ever have been expecting, and yet Renly couldn't help but feel flattered. After the duplicity of King's Landing, it was nice to be back where he belonged, surrounded by his bannermen, men whom Renly knew respected him and craved his respect in turn. His men too seemed to relish the chance to be back in their own lands, and they laughed and jested as they ate as Renly had never seen them do in King's Landing,

All the same, he did his best to escape to Loras' side as soon as was polite. He had wanted to leave for Storm's End before the evening was out and yet he couldn't refuse when Lord Buckler offered them rooms to the night. Looking around, Renly could see that his men were exhausted, barely staying awake as they drank with the Bronzegate landed nights. His squire even seemed to be dozing in his chair, his lankly limbs stretched out under the table. And whilst Renly wanted to get Loras home tonight, to put him in his own bed and make him comfortable, Renly didn't think he could ask that of his men. The road would be dark and cold and the going would be slow with a wheelhouse. To ask them to leave the warmth and hospitality of Bronzegate purely because Renly wanted to get home half a day earlier was hardly fair.

He accepted Lord Bucklers offer to stay and yet all the same, he left the meal as early as he could and was relieved to find Loras alone in the small room he'd been given, the maester evidently having had gone to bed. He was still fast asleep, his curls falling over his face in more than a little bit of a tangle. Sighing, Renly sank down into a chair at his bedside, rather surprised to find all of a sudden that he himself felt all too exhausted from the journey too. Yawning, he leant over to nudge Loras' arm, hoping that wouldn't hurt him.

It took a good few tries before Loras even stirred and yet eventually, he opened his eyes sleepily and looked up at him, his eyes glazed.

“You weren't here before.” He said slowly and with much effort.

Renly laughed, brushing Loras' curls out of his face. The milk of the poppy was evidently taking effect. Loras seemed more than a little dazed. 

“I was worried about you." He told him. "So I thought I'd pay a visit.” He leant down to kiss the corner of his mouth. He considered explaining the whole sequence of events and yet he didn't think Loras would be able to comprehend all of the details right now. Even speaking seemed an effort. His breathing was even more shallow now that he was awake, and every few breaths or so, he'd wince as if he were in pain. 

“A slight overreaction.” Loras mumbled drowsily. Hand all too wobbly, he reached out for Renly's hand, his co-ordination failing him until Renly reached out himself and took it, running his hands over Loras' calloused palm.

Renly laughed softly, squeezing his fingers tightly. “Is there anything I can do for you? Get you?”

Loras yawned. "Come lie with me?" He asked, his eyes half closed and his voice barely a whisper.

Renly sighed. “As much as I'd love to, I think that is unwise.” Indeed, he wanted more than anything to get in the bed beside him and hold him close, and yet in unfamiliar halls it just couldn't be done. He settled for just squeezing Loras' hand a little tighter, interlacing their fingers. 

“Too bad” Loras sighed, shutting his eyes. 

“But I'm going to take you back to Storm's End on the morrow Loras.” Renly told him. “It's not far and you'll be more comfortable there.”

Loras offered no reply, only smiling slightly as he leant his head back against the pillow. Renly took this as approval and dared to perch on the edge of the bed beside him, an eye on the door in case the maester decided suddenly to return. Even so, he let Loras lean against him, and set to work untangling Loras' curls, enjoying the barely audible sighs that Loras made as he ran his fingers through Loras' hair, curls that evidently hadn't seen a brush since before the tourney.

It was only when Loras was completely silent and Renly was quite sure he was once more asleep that Renly left him. He would have liked to have stayed, but that was hardly possible as Lord Buckler's guest. Instead he made do with kissing him softly on the forehead and pulling the covers up around him before making to leave.


	78. Chapter 78

As Renly had feared inevitable, Lord Buckler insisted they stay to lunch with him on the morrow, a kind invitation but one Renly really would have rather declined. As it was though, he accepted politely and it was late afternoon by the time they even prepared to set off from Bronzegate, Renly's men and the few Loras had brought with him gathering in the courtyard to ready their horses.

Loras had dozed on and off all morning and yet even so the maester said it would be better to be safe than sorry. Renly watched, thus, as the young man measured out six large spoonfuls of milk of the poppy, coaxing an already very drowsy Loras to swallow it down. It sent him back to sleep almost immediately, and it was only then, with Loras lying limp and dead to the world that they attempted to move him. Gently, the maester had four of Loras' men roll him onto a long strip of leather that was pulled taught between two sets of wooden poles at either end.

In unison, they then lifted the poles up onto their shoulders, Loras' squire following dejectedly behind them, too short to be able to help. He seemed quite at a loss now that he didn't have Loras to give him orders and Renly felt a little sorry for him. He just didn't seem to know what to do with himself.

Renly would have liked to stay with Loras in the wheelhouse and yet he knew that he would be expected to ride at the head of the party. Reluctantly thus, he watched as Loras was lifted into the wheelhouse, his squire climbing in hesitantly behind him just in case he woke on the journey and needed to be given more milk of the poppy. As soon as Loras looked settled, though, or as settled as he could whilst unconscious on the floor of a wheelhouse, Renly mounted his horse and made his way to the front of the group.

They made slow progress, the horses struggling to pull the wheelhouse through the soft mud that the rains of the Stormlands inevitably washed onto the road, and Renly kept his eyes ahead, watching Storm's End get larger and larger as they neared home.

Dusk had long fallen by the time they reached the gates of Storm's End, the wheelhouse grinding to a slow, muddy halt in the courtyard. Passing his horse to Alyn, Renly dismounted wearily, turning to watch as Loras was lifted once more out of the wheelhouse. He seemed to still be asleep and Renly was glad for it. He didn't think Loras would have been able to bear the indignity of being carried up to the castle otherwise. He'd have crawled every inch of the way before he'd have allowed anyone to help him.

The guards stationed at the castle doors regarded them warily as they approached, their hands on the hilts of their swords as they peered through the darkness. Renly had to laugh. Of all things he'd been expecting on his return, having his own men draw arms on him had not been one of them. As soon as they recognised him, though, they sprung hurriedly apart to let him pass, their faces a mixture of shame and surprise.

"My lord." They said with wide smiles and Renly stopped to greet them, pleased to see that it looked like he was going to be welcomed back with more than a little enthusiasm.Most of them too had been there when Loras was a squire and some of them inquired after him, laughing rather fondly when Renly told them that he’d got himself trampled by one of the Cleganes, which one he didn’t yet know.

“The Mountain.” They all said in unison and Renly laughed with them. He had no idea. Lord Buckler hadn’t told him and he hadn’t wanted to rouse any more suspicion by demanding every single little detail. He supposed he’d have to ask Loras once he was a little more awake. His money too, though, would have been on the Mountain if he'd had to make a bet. Gregor Clegane was so big and Loras so slight that Renly reckoned imagined Gregor Clegane could break Loras' bones merely by stepping on him.

The guards offered to take Loras to what had been his chambers, and as they took the poles from Loras' men, Renly himself headed off to find both Penrose and Maester Jurne, leaving Ser Guyard to deal with the rather complicated matter of finding chambers for everyone.

Penrose, he knew, would be in his study and so Renly headed there without further ado, dismissing Alyn for the night when he attempted to follow him. The door to Penrose's study was shut when he got there and so Renly knocked. It was only polite, even if this was his castle by right.

“I thought I said I didn’t want to be disturbed in the evenings.” Penrose’s voice came through the wooden door. He sounded more than a little exasperated and Renly had to smile fondly. He had good memories of Penrose being exasperated, more often than not at him. As a boy, Penrose had chased him all over the castle on those occasions where Renly had refused to turn in for the night, or had declared as any seven year old lord might, that he should like to have a feast with every single one of his bannermen every single evening.

Laughing, Renly pushed the door open anyway.

A look of mild irritation crossed Penrose’s face as the door swung open and yet it was soon replaced by genuine surprise and a smile.

“Renly!” He exclaimed, standing up to greet him. “What in the Gods’ name are you doing here?” He sighed, shaking his head and running a hand over his beard. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. You never were one for planning much ahead were you, my lord?”

Renly laughed. He supposed that was a fair judgement. There had never seemed any point in planning ahead to him, not when you could make decisions as you went. “I guess not." He agreed. "I admit it was a rather hasty decision.” He ran his hand through his hair wearily, stifling a yawn. “Anyway, Penrose, I’m sure we have lots to talk about but do you happen to know where Maester Jurne might be found at this hour?”

“In his chambers.” Penrose replied, looking confused and more than slightly worried. “Why?” He looked Renly up and down and seemingly relaxed a little when he saw nothing wrong with him. He sighed deeply. “I’ll go and fetch him, my lord.”

Renly just laughed. “Thank you Penrose.”

“Do you want him sent to your chambers?”

“No, to the East Wing.”

Penrose looked like he wanted to ask more and yet he disappeared out of the door and headed off dutifully in the direction of Maester Jurne’s chambers. Renly smiled as he watched him leave, before turning and heading down the corridor to Loras' rooms. It was a journey that Renly had made so often that he could have done it with his eyes closed, and Renly couldn't help but smile to himself as he went. Even with Loras in the state he was, it felt unbelievably good to be home. He imagined that he could live in King's Landing the rest of his life and Storm's End would always be home to him. Oddly enough, it was a sentiment both Robert and Stannis seemed to share, even though it had been fifteen odd years since either of them had been able to call it so.

Loras was still fast asleep when he came in and his squire was knelt by his bed, watching him as if he were afraid Loras was going to draw his last breath on his watch. The boy was quite evidently exhausted and Renly tapped him gently on the shoulder, chuckling when he scrambled to his feet and almost fell over in his haste to stand in his presence.

"I've called for a maester." Renly told him softly. "I think it's best you run along to bed now." Knowing how prone the boy seemed to be to getting lost, Renly tried to give him very simple directions down to where Ser Guyard would still be, hopefully conversing now with the lady who had replaced Brella to try and sort out rooms.

Tommas ran out of the room as if Renly had ordered him to make haste, and Renly laughed, shaking his head as he drew a chair up to Loras' bedside. Leaving the door open so that the maester would know where to find him, he sank down into it, tucking one of Loras’ curls behind his ear.

Maester Jurne appeared at the door shortly, flanked by Penrose, a flagon of wine in his hands as if he'd suspected they'd be needing it.

“I should have known.” Penrose sighed, looking Loras up and down and shaking his head.

Renly laughed a little sheepishly. He imagined that Penrose was going to mock him ruthlessly for this and yet he would just have to cope.

Penrose sighed and drew up a chair next to Renly's, peering down at Loras. “What’s wrong with the poor boy?” He asked, leaning down to ruffle Loras' hair in a way that Renly knew he'd have hated had he been awake. "I'm guessing he was at Bronzegate."

Renly nodded. “Bit off more than he could chew in the melee by the sound of it." He sighed, leaning down out of habit to tuck Loras' stray curl back behind his ear, dropping his hand when he realised quite what he was doing. He did his best to ignore Penrose's knowing smirk. "Lord Buckler’s maester informs me it’s a broken collarbone and maybe a cracked rib. He didn’t seem overly confident, though."

Penrose laughed wryly, shaking his head a little admonishingly. “You came all the way from King’s Landing over a broken collarbone and a couple of cracked ribs?”

Renly rolled his eyes. “In my defense, I didn’t know how bad the injuries were when I left.” He refused to look Penrose in the eye and gestured for Maester Jurne to take a look at him.

Maester Jurne walked round to the other side of the bed and bent over him, unbuttoning Loras’ shirt to take a look at him.

"Don't get too jealous Renly." Penrose muttered slyly as the old maester pulled the thin cotton undershirt up too, examining Loras' chest with his wrinkled hands.

Renly rolled his eyes. "I shall cope." He muttered back. He ignored the smirk that then tugged at his castellan's face. He wasn't quite sure what he'd ever done to deserve having Penrose's sharp tongue turned on him now. He'd always been led to believe that lords were to be respected, revered even in their own castle, and yet Penrose did a good job of constantly proving him otherwise. Oddly though, Renly didn't think he'd ever want it any other way. He supposed that every lord needed that one man by his side who told him plainly how things really were, with no mind to causing offence. Robert had his northern brother-in-arms up in Winterfell, Stannis his onion knight, and Renly supposed he had Penrose.

“Well definitely a broken collarbone.” Maester Jurne was saying. He pushed down gently on Loras' ribcage. “And he’s broken at least four of his ribs.” Sighing, he undid the bandages that the Bronzegate maester had wound round Loras' chest, placing them on the bedside table. “These are pointless.” He said. “And the maester at Bronzegate thought a cracked rib?” He laughed softly. “He must be recently out of the citadel indeed."

He gestured Renly forward and had him put a hand on Loras' chest. “See.” He said, guiding Renly's hand. "You can feel the breaks." Wincing a little, Renly pressed gently down and indeed it felt odd, like he could feel the bones shifting under his hand. He withdrew his hand quickly, quite sure he was going to break him. Not the first time, he was very glad he had a competent Maester. Maester Jurne was no Maester Cressen and yet he’d left the citadel with the best links in his chain.

The maester sighed, buttoning Loras' shirt back up. “Well there’s nothing I can do for these bones. He should be on the mend perfectly soon enough, though. Loras is young. He might even be up and about as usual in a month if he rests properly.” He patted Loras’ arm. “All we can do is prevent him from moving as little as possible, keep him in bed for a good few weeks at least.”

“Good luck with that.” Penrose said dryly.

Renly was inclined to agree with him. Loras would not take well to being confined to his bed and he knew that as soon as the drowsiness from the milk of the poppy wore off, that it would be near impossible to keep Loras there.

"These breaks are painful, though." Maester Jurne mumbled as if to himself. He turned to Renly. “Did the maester at Bronzegate give him anything for the pain?”

“Milk of the poppy.” Renly said, nodding. “He had some today to help him sleep on the road.” He was glad for it too. He'd seen how unsteady the wheelhouse had been as the horses had all but dragged it through the mud. He imagined that Loras would have been in agony had he been conscious.

“And how long has he been asleep?” The maester kindly inquired.

Renly thought. “Since noon I suppose.”

The maester’s brow furrowed slightly. “Since noon? How much did the maester give him?”

Renly thought. "Six spoonfuls, I think.”

“Six spoons?” The maester’s wispy eyebrows almost disappeared into his greying hair and he bent down once more to check Loras’ breathing.

“Is that a lot?” Renly stood up, suddenly worried. His distress must have shown, for Penrose's hand was suddenly on his arm, guiding him gently back down into his seat.

“Silly boy.” The maester was muttering to himself, evidently taking about the young maester at Bronzegate. “Six spoonfuls...” He shook his head and turned to Renly. "I’d be reluctant to give you that much, my lord, and Loras is slight, still half a boy.” He sighed. “I’d have given him half that much at most."

"But will he be alright?" Renly asked desperately, trying to stand up once more and having Penrose restrain him more forcefully this time. The worst was suddenly running through his head once more and his breath caught painfully in his throat as he imagined Loras never waking up, his eyes staying closed. "Will he be alright?" He repeated in a voice that wasn't his, wanting to shake the maester until he answered. It was loud and forceful, and it sounded all too much like Robert.

Maester Jurne indeed looked a little taken aback. "Yes, my lord." He said softly. "I dare say he’ll be fine, if more than a little disorientated when he wakes.”

Renly breathed a sigh of relief, collapsing back into his chair. He suddenly felt as exhausted as Loras looked and he ran his hands wearily through his hair. "Excuse my temper, maester." He mumbled, head still in his hands. "It's been a long road."

Penrose patted his arm gently. "Calm yourself, Renly." He said. He laughed softly and turned to peer at Loras. "The poor boy must be out of his mind." He commented. "I remember my father had when he had the misfortune to have to take milk of the poppy.” He chuckled. “He was convinced his own mother was in the room, and she’s been dead over fifty years.”

The maester straightened up as much as his slightly crooked back would let him. "Is there anything I can get for you, my lord?" He asked. "A cup of dream wine to help you sleep?"

Renly shook his head. He had no desire to sink into a deep dreamless sleep. He needed to be here when Loras woke up, to soothe him if he was confused. The thought of leaving Loras to wake up alone in a dark room, even a room that had once been his own, was an idea that he couldn't possible entertain. He glanced down at him on the bed. His face was pale and his breathing shallow. Renly knew that he couldn't possibly leave him tonight.

"A drop of nightshade perhaps then?" The maester reached into one of his inside pockets and drew out a tiny bottle. "A common poison, my lord, but one drop will do wonders for frayed nerves."

Renly's first instinct was to say no, and yet Penrose nodded very slightly at him, hand still on his arm. "I think that's perhaps a good idea Renly." He said quietly.

"Fine then." Renly sighed a little reluctantly, and soon the maester was scurrying towards him with a cup of wine. Very carefully, he poured a single drop from the tiny bottle into it. The nightshade was almost black in colour and the maester stirred it into the wine with a long spoon.

"Three drops would help you sleep, my lord?" He suggested softly, as he passed Renly the cup, still clutching the bottle of dark liquid.

"I don't want to sleep." Renly insisted, edging a little closer to Loras and wanting very much to take his hand.

"As you wish, my lord." The maester put the bottle back inside one of his pockets. He inclined his head ever so slightly towards Loras. “Send for me if he hasn’t woken by morning.”

Renly nodded, noting with a little bit of embarrassment that the maester had assumed he would be staying with him. It usually wasn't the done thing that a lord would keep vigil at a bedside, not unless it was his wife or child who had been taken ill. He supposed, though, that his maester knew him well enough to know that he wasn't about to be leaving Loras' side any time soon.

The maester quickly seemed to realise his blunder. “Unless of course my lord wishes me to stay up with him, or to find one of the servants.”

Penrose chuckled. "I'm sure no offence was taken, dear maester." He said, standing. "Was it Renly?"

"No maester." Renly sighed, shaking his head feebly. He wondered why they bothered to be honest. He knew that both Penrose and his maester had long been aware of the sort of relationship he had with Loras. And yet, despite that, the act still prevailed.

Penrose patted him on the shoulder. "Why don't you drink your wine now then." He gave him an unusually gentle smile, for once without a hint of sarcasm. "I'm assuming you don't want me to sit up with you?"

Renly shook his head. "It's fine." He breathed, taking a long drink of the wine. It didn't taste any different from usual and Renly was sceptical that the nightshade was going to do anything towards calming him down. Even so, he forced a smile as Penrose and the maester turned to leave. He regretted having almost lost his temper earlier. It was unlike him and it frightened him a little. He couldn't even remember the last time that he'd even been at risk of losing his temper. Usually, he left that to Robert.

Penrose paused in the doorway and Renly turned to look at him questioningly.

Penrose smiled ever so slightly and gestured to Loras, lifeless still on the bed, “Just try to be gentle with him, my lord.” He said with a smirk, his eyes twinkling with amusement. He winked as he swept out of the door.

Renly flushed scarlet. Perhaps he was glad after all that his household for the most part continued to feign ignorance.

…………….

The nightshade did calm his nerves and yet Renly didn’t sleep at all that night. Instead, he sat on the chair by Loras’ bedside, holding his hand as he watched Loras' chest rise and fall, fighting the urge to let his eyes close. He was determined not to be asleep when Loras woke and if that meant that he had to force himself to stay awake for a few more hours, Renly knew that it had to be so.

It was just before dawn that Loras first stirred, shifting slightly on the bed as if he was trying to roll over. Renly just watched him intently, forgetting immediately that he was tired, that he could barely keep his eyes open. Loras seemed restless, his breathing rapid and shallow, and when Renly placed his hand gently over his heart he could feel that it was racing, fluttering almost in his chest.

He woke soon after in a cold sweat, panting and calling for his mother in a voice that was barely a whisper. His palm was cold and clammy and yet Renly held onto it regardless, leaning down to brush Loras' damp hair from his forehead and hushing him as best he could.

He didn't seem to even hear him and dazed, he looked wildly round the room. His eyes were wide, glazed and almost glassy looking, and Renly could barely make out his pupils. Eventually, something near to recognition dawned on his face and yet still he called for his mother all the same. His voice was weak and plaintive and it broke Renly's heart in two.

"Shh." Renly whispered, placing his palm on Loras' cheek and running his fingers gently over his cheekbone.

Loras looked at him then and for a good few moments stared up at him with not a hint of recognition in his eyes. It was only when Renly called his name that Loras seemed to even see him.

“Renly?” He whispered, clutching at the bottom of Renly’s shirt with clumsy hands and balling the fabric up in his palms. His voice was confused and Renly clutched his hand tighter, interlacing their fingers. The maester had warned him that he'd be disorientated and yet Renly hadn't ever expected to see Loras in such a state.

"Shhh." Renly breathed. "It's alright. I'm here."

“Where am I?” Loras asked, a note of distress in his voice. He tried to sit up and yet didn't quite manage it, managing to lift his head before he collapsed back against the bed like a rag doll. “Where are we Renly?” He asked again, the note of distress now laced with panic.

"We're in Storm’s End, Loras." Renly breathed, moving to perch on the edge of the bed and letting Loras clutch at his shirt once more. Softly, he wiped Loras' brow with his sleeve. "Now try to go back to sleep for me." He whispered. "You'll feel better in the morning. I promise.” He ran his fingers over Loras' cheek again.

That seemed to calm him ever so slightly, and slowly, he released his grip on Renly's shirt until he was no longer at risk of tearing it. His breathing becoming less panicked, he stared up at Renly a little blankly. "I feel dreadful." He whispered, his voice slightly hoarse. "What's wrong with me?"

Renly laughed softly, leaning down to brush his lips against Loras'. "It's the milk of the poppy, Loras." He breathed. "Let's just say some maesters are better than others." Sighing, he closed Loras' eyes with his fingertips. He didn't think he'd ever been more relieved than he was now to see Loras calm a little. "Do you need anything? Bread? Water?" He didn't have any water to hand and yet propping Loras' head up a little on a pillow, he lifted the flagon of wine to his lips.

Loras drank feebly, barely managing to swallow. He didn't show much interest, though, and Renly suspected he was only drinking at all because he had suggested it.

"I'm so cold, Renly." He whispered once Renly had set the flagon back on the table. "I can't feel my feet, or my hands."

"Alright," Renly soothed and his legs feeling like lead, he dragged himself out of the chair. The night's air had been warm and Renly had never thought to put the bedsheets over him, and yet now he did so, tucking them up around his neck. He then unfastened his cloak and laid that over him too, smiling when he saw that Loras seemed to like that, grabbing at the fabric and bringing it closer to his face, mumbling something incoherent into it.

"Now come on then," Renly whispered, sitting back down on the edge of the bed. "Back to sleep." He bent to kiss Loras' hair.

Loras gazed up at him, his eyes unfocused. “Don’t leave me alone here?” He breathed.

Renly laughed softly. “I won’t.”


	79. Chapter 79

Loras seemed slightly more lucid in the morning. He had calmed down significantly and there was a little more colour to his face. Despite the fact, though, that Renly had watched him sleep for what seemed like the past two days, he didn't seem to be any less exhausted for it. He could barely lift his head and when he tried to sit up, calling Renly's name and looking around for him, he just collapsed straight back against his pillows, looking a little defeated. Renly didn't know whether this was because it hurt or purely because he was tired, and yet either way Loras didn't appear to have any interest in trying again. As soon as Renly came to sit close, he just shut his eyes and pulled Renly's cloak a little closer before falling straight back to sleep.

Looking at him, Renly desperately wanted to join him in his slumber. He'd dozed on and off in his chair since dawn and yet sleep was a more tempting prospect than it had ever seemed before. Yawning, though, he willed himself to get up, leaving Loras to sleep and going off in search of Maester Jurne.

Maester Jurne had evidently had the same thought, though, and they met half way in between Loras' chambers and the maester's own.

"How is he?" The maester asked as Renly turned midstep to go back the way he'd come. "Has he woken?" In his hands he had a steaming bowl of what looked like soup. Renly assumed it was intended for Loras and yet somehow he didn't think the maester was going to have much luck with it. It didn't look particularly appetising and Renly imagined that Loras wouldn't have had any interest in eating it at the best of times, let alone now. It looked like the sort of thing Renly supposed a peasant might eat.   
  
Renly nodded, though, and decided not to mention it. "He woke not long before dawn and very briefly just now." He told him, frowning and slowing his pace so that the maester could keep up. "But he's exhausted like I've never seen him. Like I've never seen anyone really. Not even me and I rather enjoy sleeping." Indeed, Renly imagined that he'd be able to count the number of times he'd woken up before Loras on one hand. Wanting to sleep like this was very unlike Loras at all. It worried Renly a little and yet he supposed that it was to be expected.

The maester sighed. "You'd be exhausted too if you'd had that much milk of the poppy spooned down your throat, my lord." He pushed open the door to Loras' chambers with his wrinkled hands and crossed the room over to the bed. Bending over him, he shook Loras' shoulder gently. It took a few minutes but eventually Loras stirred as if he heard him. 

"Can you tell me where we are Loras?" The maester bent down further. He spoke to Loras as if he were a child and Renly knew that had Loras been himself, he would have probably punched the maester for speaking to him like that. Loras had very little patience for being treated as if he were still a young boy. 

"Storm's End." Loras mumbled sleepily, wrapping an arm further around Renly's cloak and making Renly suddenly wish that he'd thought to take that from Loras before going off for the maester. He supposed, though, that the maester had no way of telling that it belonged to him rather than Loras himself.

"And who lives in Storm's End?" The maester pressed, evidently trying to see if Loras had his wits about him yet. 

"Renly." Loras answered and Renly couldn't help but think that that was a rather pointless question for the maester to have asked, assuming that his aim was indeed to test how disorientated Loras was. Technically, Renly supposed he lived in King's Landing now, and yet as far as he was concerned, Storm's End would always be his home. He had no idea what the maester considered the correct response to be, whether he'd wanted Loras to answer as he had done or whether he'd been expecting Loras to list people like Penrose. 

"And where do _you_ live?" The maester asked. Again, Renly thought that this was a question with a tenuous answer at best. Loras could say either King's Landing or Highgarden here, and both would be perfectly acceptable answers.

It seemed, though, that neither of these possible options appealed to Loras. "I live here." He said shortly, not even bothering to open his eyes.

"No, Loras, you live in Highgarden." The maester corrected.

Loras opened his eyes to glance around. "But this is my room." He said weakly. "This has been my room for years." The distress was resurfacing now and had the maester not been there, Renly would have taken him in his arms and reassured him. He'd have probably even agreed with Loras if that's what it took to get him to calm. 

The maester frowned slightly. "And why do you live here?"

Renly held his breath a little. He wouldn't be all too surprised if, in this state, Loras came out with something quite inappropriate. He almost expected Loras to tell the maester that he lived here so that his lord could take him to bed.

"Because I'm Lord Renly's squire."

"I see. And what does lord Renly do on the small council."

"He's the master of laws." Loras looked a little confused when he said that, as if he knew that there was something a little wrong with what he'd just said. He didn't seem to be able to place it, though, and so he just laid his head back on the pillow, looking a little defeated once more.

Maester Jurne laughed softly and patted his arm. "He's fine. He's just a little muddled." He stood up and turned to Renly. "Understandable really. He most likely associates being here with squiring for you." He sighed. "It's all he's ever known here, I suppose."

Renly nodded. "And when do you think he'll be back to normal?"

"Soon." The maester said confidently. "I dare say he'll be his usual self once he's rested a little more and he's had a little to eat." Unsteadily, he drew up a chair and reached for the bowl of broth. He dipped a spoon into it and brought it to Loras' lips.

Loras just took one look at the contents of the bowl and turned his head away. To be honest, Renly didn't blame him. The maester seemed to have mashed the contents up as if he was trying to feed a babe and whilst Renly guessed that that would make it easier for Loras to eat, it wasn't at all easy on the eye. 

The maester sighed and tried again, setting the bowl down on the bedside table with. "He has to eat." He said to Renly as if Loras wasn't there. "I dare say he's eaten very little since the tourney. Milk of the poppy saps the appetite, my lord." He beckoned Renly forward with a wrinkly hand. "Perhaps you might have more persuasion?"

Renly didn't think so and yet wearily he came forward and sat down on the edge of Loras' bed. He picked up the bowl and stared down at it a little sceptically. It looked even worse up close, sort of brown and sludgy with what looked like vegetables floating around in it. It reminded him a little of the onion soup that they'd eaten day after day during the siege. He resisted the urge to sigh and dipped the spoon into it, though, lifting it to Loras' mouth.

Loras opened his eyes. "I don't want it." He said. With a very wobbly hand he pushed the bowl away, almost spilling the contents all over himself. Renly managed to steady the bowl just in time. He imagined that they could do without Loras scalding himself with soup as well as having broken most of the bones in his chest.

Renly turned to the maester and shrugged. "I can't force him to eat." He stood and put it on the table, sighing deeply. "Leave it there and I'll try again in a little while."

The maester nodded. He glanced at Loras, looking him up and down. "And I dare say I should send a chambermaid up to bathe him." He said, running a hand over his beard. "The hot water will do him good."

Renly just nodded. He dared say Loras could indeed do with a bath. If you looked under the top layer of his hair, Loras' curls were almost matted, like a peasant rather than the son of a lord that he was. He imagined that this was probably the longest time Loras had ever gone without bathing. Renly could sympathise. He remembered all too well how terrible it had been travelling through the Prince's Pass to Dorne. He supposed, though, that Loras ought to be grateful for small mercies. He didn't have the problem yet of very itchy stubble. Although, looking at him now, Renly thought that the fine downy hair on his cheeks was looking a little more noticeable. It would perhaps not be long before Loras would be needing to pick up a razor.

He waited for the maester to close the door behind him before he picked the bowl of broth up again. He got properly up onto the bed next to him. "Come on Loras." He sighed. "Stop being silly. You need to eat something. And this will be good for you."

"But I don't want any." He said. 

"Just a mouthful?" Renly put an arm gently around him and let him lean against his shoulder. "For me?"

Loras' brow furrowed and very very reluctantly he reached out for the spoon, his hand a little wobbly. Renly gave it to him, and watched as Loras attempted to get it in the bowl. He supposed that this was a good sign, the fact that Loras didn't seem in any hurry to let himself be fed. This was quite evidently not going to work, though, and so Renly took the spoon from his fumbling fingers. 

"Come on." Renly rested the bowl on his lap. "Just hold still." He spooned some of the broth into Loras' mouth, glad that Loras didn't seem to have the energy to fight him. He let Renly put the spoon in his mouth without all that much of a fuss, swallowing it with difficulty. Renly supposed it couldn't have tasted as bad as it looked, though, otherwise he reckoned Loras would have spat it out. He did seem to have had enough after a couple of mouthfuls, though, and as soon as the bowl was back on the table he seemed all too ready to go back to sleep, leaning his head against Renly's shoulder and his eyes half closing.

"How are you feeling Loras?" Renly breathed, wrapping his arm a little tighter around him.

"I'm fine." He sighed, leaning heavily against him. "And I do know I'm not your squire anymore. I don't know why I thought that earlier."

"You're just a little muddled." Renly soothed. "But you'll be quite right soon."

Loras just nodded, his eyes closing.

 

...........

Two chambermaids arrived presently with hot water for a bath, filling the tub in the corner of the room until it was almost full to the brim. They had evidently been instructed to bathe him themselves and yet Renly waved them away as soon as he'd had them put fresh linen on the bed. Renly didn't think there would be anything that Loras would find more humiliating than having to be washed by one of the servants.

Loras was still asleep and Renly took his clothes as gently as possible. It was odd, he found. It was very rare that he removed all of Loras' clothes without the aim of going to bed together. It was a little strange to see Loras lying naked on the bed, his cock lying soft between his legs and he wondered if Loras often saw him like this, usually waking up hours before him as he always did. Bending to kiss Loras' cheek, he tried to coax Loras out of bed so he could get him in the water, and yet Loras barely stirred when he shook him. Sighing, Renly just scooped him up and put him in himself.

He slept through most of it, Renly having to hold him up in the water as he did his best to wash him. He could have definitely done with some help and yet he couldn't allow anyone to see him like this, on his knees at the side of the bathtub and trying to stop his former squire from drowning with one hand whilst scrubbing at him uselessly with the other. He did his best, though, and Renly scrubbed at him until his arms ached. He knew that Loras would hate to remain as he had been this morning, his clothes stiff with dry sweat and his curls stuck to his forehead.

He did his best too to wash his hair and yet Renly didn't know how Loras did it. It never seemed to get tangled when Loras did it and it felt like he was trying to get his fingers through brambles as he rubbed soap into it. Loras always seemed to separate his curls with his fingers whilst his hair was wet and yet either his hair was too tangled for that right now or Renly was just useless at getting the tangles out. 

It took him what felt like forever and yet finally he was satisfied, even if he did have to settle for merely getting his curls clean and ignoring the tangles.

It was more difficult than he'd anticipated getting Loras out of the bath. He couldn't get a decent grip on him and he didn't want to heave too much in case he did him any more damage. By the time he did get him out, Renly reckoned he was probably almost as wet as Loras was. He sighed heavily as he dried him with a towel. He didn't think he'd ever been more exhausted and part of him was tempted to just lie down next to Loras and not bother with getting Loras clothed and back in bed. 

It was only when he tried to move Loras into a convenient position to get him dressed that he stirred, opening his eyes and frowning slightly at Renly.

"Why am I naked?" He asked slowly, wincing slightly as he tried to sit up.

Renly smiled. He hated to see Loras wince in pain and yet he reckoned that this was a good sign, a sign that the milk of the poppy was beginning to wear off. "You're naked because you've just come out of the bath." 

"Oh." Loras sighed, his face drawn. "Well that's disappointing."

Renly laughed and helped Loras prop himself up on his pillows, glad to see some of his good humour back. He seemed a little stronger now and his eyes no longer had that odd sort of glassy look. Even so, Renly had to help him put some clean clothes on, gently guiding his arms into the sleeves for him and lifting up his hips so that he could pull his breeches up. Renly was pleased, though, to see that Loras had enough energy to at least look a little bit disgruntled at having to be helped.

"So, what happened to you?" Renly asked, unable not to resist yawning as he lifted the bedsheets over him. "Which Clegane's feet did you get under?" He got under the covers with him, not quite sure if his tiredness outweighed his ever growing hunger. He was tempted now to eat the brown lumpy broth that the maester had brought for Loras. 

Loras just leant his head against Renly's chest gingerly. "Both." He admitted, his face still very pale. "The hound brought a mace down on my shield and I heard something snap." He yawned, screwing his eyes up as if it hurt to do so. Quite posibbly it did, Renly knew nothing about what having broken ribs felt like. Loras then sighed, seemingly gathering the effort to speak again. "And later, I crossed paths with the Mountain and he caught me in the chest." 

Renly just stared at him. "Why didn't you yield when you broke the first bone?" He didn't think he'd ever heard anything more foolish. Loras didn't seem to understand that melees allowed participants to yield for a reason.

Loras' brow furrowed. "Why would I have done that?" He looked quite utterly bemused by the idea. 

Renly shook his head, thoroughly exasperated. You just don't know when to give up do you?"

Loras just yawned and laid his head against Renly's shoulder.

 

...............

Renly turned up to lunch feeling as exhausted as Loras had looked when he'd left him. He didn't think he could remember the last time he'd had so little sleep, and yet whilst he'd been tempted to just curl up next to Loras and sleep beside him, the hunger won out in the end. Thus, his limbs feeling like lead, he dragged himself down the corridor, following the smell of food down the hall. He imagined that Loras would probably sleep long enough not to miss him.  

Renly found Penrose quickly and sat down next to him, a serving girl quickly pouring him a cup of wine and serving him from the large platters in the centre of the table.

"So?" Renly asked, dreading the answer. "How many of my bannermen want audiences with me." He knew that as soon as the news that he was back in the Stormlands had spread, his bannermen would most likely be fighting themselves to speak to him over matters which they considered important. Whatever the number was now, Renly reckoned it would have tripled by dinnertime, as the news that he was back slowly spread. Somehow, too, they all seemed to think him more capable of solving their problems than his castellan was.

"As of before lunch, four." Penrose told him. "Lords Swann and Trant are bickering over a plot of land that falls between Gallowsgrey and Stonehelm, and lords Grandison and Lord Morrigen wish to be exempt from this season's levvies because their harvest was ruined by floods."

Renly bit back a sigh. He wished Ser Guyard's eldest brother was as pliant as Ser Guyard was. He'd have a hard time arguing with both Lord Morrigen and Grandison. "And have any of them arrived yet?"

"No. Swann, Morrigenn and Trant sent ravens asking for an audience. Grandison, though, sent a messenger to inform us that he shall be arriving this afternoon."

Renly groaned. "Well that's inconvenient." He said, running a hand through  his hair. He'd hoped to return to Loras after lunch and by no stretch of the imagination was he ever going to consider leaving Loras by himself purely so that he could recieve Lord Grandison. The man was an odious fool and even on a good day, Renly would have been reluctant to spend any time with him. "He'll just have to wait." He told Penrose, stifling a yawn. "I have to get back to Loras. I can't leave him all by himself."

Penrose looked him up and down. "First things first Renly," He said. "-you need to sleep." He raised an eyebrow. "Please do not tell me that you sat up with Loras all night yesterday?"

Renly shrugged. "I shall tell you nothing then."   
  
Penrose sighed deeply. "I shall deal with Grandison after lunch, and you shall go to bed." His face set, he continued. "And you shall stay there until you've slept for at least a few hours. Loras will manage just fine without you."

"Bu-" Renly opened his mouth to speak.  
  
"No buts." Penrose insisted. "I shall find that Fossoway boy to see after Loras."

Renly thought about arguing with him and yet after a few moments nodded, resting his head in his hands. He couldn't deny the fact that he needed to sleep and he supposed too that taking care of Loras was in fact Loras' squire's job, not his. All the same, he was very reluctant to let him take over. He didn't quite trust anyone else with him, not when he was as he had been this morning.

"How is Loras anyway?" Penrose asked, passing Renly a plate of cakes. "The maester told me this morning that he was still a bit confused from the milk of the poppy. Like he'd been hit a little too hard on that pretty little head of his."

"He's better." Renly sighed, ignoring Penrose's jibe. "But still not right. He's tired and quiet. Not himself at all."

Penrose smiled, amusement in his eyes. "Sounds like an improvement."  
  
Renly glared at him and Penrose laughed, seemingly not at all repentant. He always had enjoyed winding Loras up all too much and that pastime of his seemed to extend even to those occasions when Loras wasn't physically there to make fun of. 

"He won't stay like this." He said, patting Renly's shoulder. "I should make the most of it if I were you."

Renly just rolled his eyes.


	80. Chapter 80

As Penrose had predicted, Loras’ docility did not last long. Within little more than a couple of days, it was all anyone could do to keep him in his room, let alone in bed. He refused to listen to the maester, or to the advice Willas sent by raven, and Renly imagined that the seven hells would freeze over one by one before Loras would listen to him. Whilst Renly personally thought that he himself would have rather relished being advised to spend a good couple of weeks lounging around in bed, Loras didn't seem to share his opinion in the slightest. _Rest_ seemed to be a foreign word to him, one that he couldn't, and didn't want to understand.

Renly tried everything. He had Loras' bed moved so that he could look out of the window, he suggested that Loras write letters to Margaery, he even resorted to having the maester slip a little dream wine into the cup of wine they brought Loras with his meals, a ploy that hardly ever worked due to Loras' lack of interest. Usually, he barely touched his wine and just asked for water. And whilst Renly attempted the same thing with nightshade in the water, having the maester pour a few tiny drops into the jug that the chambermaid brought up, Loras was only willing to be fooled once. After that first time, a blissfully peaceful afternoon which Renly had spent catching up on the letters he ought to have written in the capital, Loras insisted that the chambermaid who served him also drank from the jug. And upon finding the fifth chambermaid slumped against the corridor wall fast asleep, Renly and the maester were forced to give up. Loras had won that particular game.

And so, eventually, after Loras had escaped from his chambers for the third time, Renly resigned himself to the fact that he would just need to constantly watch over Loras himself. With that decided, he thus dismissed Tommas Fossoway from his job of ensuring that his master took his rest, a job that he had been quite useless at so far. The eleven year old appeared to have a fondness for drinking the wine that Loras left, the wine that the maester diligently mixed with dream wine each and every morning and that Renly was sure Loras somehow knew would send him immediately off to sleep. 

And so Renly took the boy's place, sitting at the table in Loras' room and writing his letters there, carrying on his small council business as best as he could by raven. He'd come early in the morning whilst Loras was still content to be in bed, and sit with him a while before starting his work, untangling Loras' curls in the morning sunshine. Loras seemed quite content to stay abed then, and yet as soon as Renly got out of bed to start on his letters, he'd begin fidgeting, refusing to stay and rest.

“It’s only just over two weeks before you can be up and about.” Renly tried to console him on the third morning, raising his eyebrow as Loras tried to climb out of bed. “You just have to stay put for a little while. Till you heal.” He smiled at him across the room, dipping his quill in the ink.

Loras scowled but consented to lie back down, wincing as he moved. “I’m not promising anything.” He insisted. One arm folded across his chest, he glanced out of the window restlessly, no doubt watching the knights practice in the courtyard below, his own squire no doubt among them too, practising with the other young boys under the watchful eye of the master at arms. Renly had no doubt that Loras longed to join them, a ridiculous notion at best when one considered the fact that Loras could barely walk without wincing.

Renly grinned at him when he was settled once more against his pillows, getting up from his seat and going over to him. Pausing by the bed, he leant down to kiss him. He had to laugh, though, when Loras tried to pull away, evidently not happy with him.

Renly laughed and drew back. “Be like that then.” He said. “I’m off to have lunch. I’ll have yours brought up.”

“I’m not hungry.” Loras said petulantly, his face still turned away.

Renly laughed. “Feel free to leave it then. I assure you, I won’t be offended.” 

……….

Renly would have very much liked to take his lunch in Loras' chambers with him and yet that was not to be today. The Lords Morrigen and Grandison had been seeking an audience with him since his return and so Renly had granted it, suggesting they lunch with him so that they could talk over their request that Renly release them from this year's taxes. This afternoon had been the chosen date, and Renly had invited Ser Guyard and Ser Narbert to join them, feeling it only polite seeing as it was their houses he was dealing with. It was going to be an uncomfortable lunch at best, though, he knew. Ser Guyard and Ser Narbert, though once having been master and squire, did not get on in the slightest. They bickered like no end, and Renly loathed the idea of sitting them at the same table. Hopefully, though, the presence of Narbert's father and Guyard's eldest brother would keep them in check.

Lord Morrigen and Lord Grandison were awaiting him in the hall when Renly descended, their sons flanking them on each side. Renly greeted them warmly, leading them to what had been a private audience chamber used by his father and which today Renly was going to use as a more intimate dining space.

"So," He said, taking his seat at the head of the table and gesturing the serving girls forward to pour the wine, "Tell me everything of your flooded fields." He thought he might as well get down to the problem. Usually he liked to amble around with small talk and yet between his bannermen, the small council and Loras, Renly had his hands quite full. He had little time to make pointless chatter today, something that was quite unlike him.

It was Lord Grandison who started, launching into a ramble that lasted more than five minutes, informing Renly of the waist-deep water that he claimed had left his fields unable to be harvested. It sounded terrible and yet Renly had to wonder quite how much he was exaggerating. Minor flooding was common in the Stormlands, especially along the coast of Shipbreaker Bay where the storms brought in heavy rains, and yet from what Penrose had informed him of the rains in the past few months, Renly found it hard to believe that Lord Grandison's fields had been waist-deep in water.

Lord Morrigen took his turn next and yet before he had opened his mouth, Ser Guyard seemed to have decided to take matters into his own hands. Bursting into song, he told Renly of the trials that Renly knew he couldn't possibly have been present for.

" _It was woe that befell the lands of Crow's Nest_." He sang. " _As the rains rolled in strong from the west._ "

Renly just had to sigh, resigning himself to listening to him. He didn't even point out that the rains had most certainly rolled in from the east, off the Narrow Sea and off Shipbreaker bay. He supposed that the west was just more convenient for the rhyme with Crow's Nest that Ser Guyard was trying to achieve.

 _"It was with water that the Gods drenched our fields. And no amount of prayer could be our shields._ "

Renly just tried not to cringe. Often he had to wonder whether Ser Guyard prepared his words in advance or if he just made it up as he went along. He desperately hoped that it was the latter. He reckoned that even Loras, with not an imaginative bone in his body, could probably come up similar lines if given time to prepare.

" _In vain we tried to save the corn, and yet still the Gods did scorn. They sent but more rain to drench the soil, and laughed upon us as we did toil._ "

It was hard and yet Renly managed to keep a straight face until Ser Guyard had quietened. He was only glad Penrose had had no desire to join them. Penrose had no time for Ser Guyard's singing and Renly knew that had his castellan been here, he would long have told Ser Guyard to put a sock in it. It was for this reason that Penrose and Ser Guyard just didn't seem to get on. Both seemed to think the other a waste of space.

"That was lovely, Ser Guyard." Renly forced himself to say, repressing his desperate urge to laugh. Instead, he settled for doing his best to memorise Ser Guyard's carefully crafted lines, looking forward to later when he would be able to repeat them in jest to both Loras and to Penrose. He focused on this throughout the rest of the meal, even when he eventually gave in to their demands and cut their levies in half. He was being more than generous, he knew, and he feared that Penrose would most likely scold him when he told him, for being the most lenient lord in the Seven Kingdoms.

All the same, Renly was just glad to have it over with, and he was pleased when he could finally leave them be and return to Loras. He'd had enough of Ser Guyard's singing for at least the next week and he though that he would be quite happy never to see either Grandison again.

He didn't waste any time in making his way back up to Loras' chambers, and upon walking up the stairs, though, he was rather bemused to hear raised voices. They sounded like they were coming from Loras' room and indeed, the closer he got, the louder it became.

Curious, he pushed the door open, surprised to find Penrose blocking the doorway and Loras standing at the foot of the bed. Both seemed distinctly unimpressed, glaring at each other with ill concealed displeasure. Both of them must have seen him enter and yet neither of them acknowledged his arrival. Both seemed to caught up in glaring at each other.

“Loras.” Penrose was saying, his voice almost a growl. “You get back into that bed this instant.”

Loras had already been scowling but now that scowl deepened. “Why should I?” He shot back. “Pray tell me, Penrose. What authority do you have over me?”

“It’s the maester’s order, Loras. And must I remind you that I am the castellan here. And so I have every authority over you.” 

“Only while Renly is away.” Loras retorted. “And as far as I’m away, he’s distinctly not away currently.” He gestured at the doorway where Renly was standing. Renly grinned and gave him a lazy wave, pleased to have finally been acknowledged. 

“And Renly will insist the same Loras.” Penrose snapped. He turned to Renly. “Won’t you my lord?”

Rely grinned, running a hand through his hair. “Don’t involve me in all this.” He laughed, leaning against the door frame as Penrose turned back to Loras, exasperated. 

Loras regarded him coolly. “Well?” He asked, looking all too smug. 

“This is my last warning.” Penrose said, his face set. “I shall give you a choice Loras. You get back into bed this instant, or I shall put you there myself and you’ll be lucky if I don’t break a few more of your bones in the process.”

Loras lost his temper then. “How dare you speak to me like this?” He all but spat at Penrose. “Like I’m some child who you have authority over. Must I remind you that I’m a _Ser_ now? You should address me as such.”

Penrose snorted. “You shall always be nothing but Loras to me, title or no title. And must I remind you that I’m no less a knight than you, that I have been so since before you were born.” He paused. “Pray tell me Loras, when was the last time you addressed me as Ser Cortnay?”

“Fair point.” Renly couldn’t help but pipe up from his vantage point in the doorway. He genuinely couldn't remember Loras ever addressing his castellan as _Ser Cortnay_. Penrose was just always referred to as Penrose, by everyone of low and high birth alike. The only person he could think of who called Penrose by his first name was Edric; he was forever running after _Ser Cortnay_.  It was a good point, though. Renly had never really thought about it before but he supposed that it was rather humble that Penrose didn't seem to mind not being refered to constantly with his title.

Renly grinned sheepishly, though, as Loras gave him a look of pure venom. Sighing, he turned to Penrose. “I’ll take him from here, Ser Cortnay.” He said, laughing as he noted how Loras scowled to hear him use Penrose’s title. With Loras already wound up, Renly just couldn't resist winding him up a little further.

Penrose left gladly, shutting the door behind him rather loudly.

Renly laughed as he crossed the room to Loras. He’d have a hard time now of unruffling Loras’ feathers, he thought, especially after coming to Penrose’s defence. He'd manage though, he always did. He'd yet to see Loras so wound up that he couldn't calm him down. It was one of the talents he prided himself on. Of all the people in Storm's End, it had only ever been him who'd ever a chance at curbing Loras' temper once it was roused. It was a difficult job, for Loras had quite the temper when he wanted to.

Indeed, Loras eyed him warily as he placed a hand on his arm. Slowly, though, Renly sat down on the end of the bed, indicating for Loras to join him. Loras did so very reluctantly, eyes still flashing daggers at him.

“Are you angry at me?” Renly said lightly, tilting Loras’ head back to kiss his neck. It was only then that he realised that he was currently stripped of one of his most useful weapons. Usually, when Loras was in a sulk, he just slipped a hand down his breeches until Loras came round to the idea of cheering up. Now, though, he supposed he wasn't allowed to do that. Loras claimed that it hurt to breathe as it was. Renly could only imagine how painful it would be if Renly tried to set his pulse racing. He supposed he'd have to use his charm instead.

Loras pushed his hand away. “You didn’t have to take his side.” He glared at him, his brow furrowed.

Renly sighed and took his hands in his own, interlinking their fingers. “Let me make it up to you?”

“You can try.” Loras muttered back, evidently not impressed. He didn't pull his hands away, though, and so Renly reckoned Loras wasn't so very mad after all. As usual, it would be Penrose who bore the full brunt of Loras' mood.

Renly laughed and looped his arms around his neck. Being as gentle as he could, and avoiding the areas he knew to be tender, he pulled Loras up the bed and settled him in between his legs. “I’ll tell you what.” He breathed. “I shall read you a story. To keep you busy, keep your mind off things.” That was what everyone had always done with him when trying to keep his mind off things during the siege of Storm's End. By the time the siege had been lifted, Renly reckoned he'd had every book in the castle read to him. Even Stannis had had a go on rare occasions, settling Renly on his rigid knees and reading the words to him very stiffly, his voice as monotonous as the days he was trying to fill. He'd been a poor story-teller, with no enthusiasm and little expression when he read, and Renly remembered how he'd told Stannis so, insisting that Robert's stories upon coming back from the Eyerie had always been far superior.

"Do you have to?" Loras asked, sounding as enthusiastic as Stannis had done. 

Renly grinned and rested his chin on Loras' shoulder. "You know you'll love it." Honestly, he doubted this very much, and yet he knew that it would occupy Loras, if only by giving him something to complain about. When it came down to it, Loras rather seemed to enjoy complaining.

"There's no books in here." Loras pointed out. 

"I shall remember one then." Renly laughed, wrapping his arms around him and casting around for an idea. He settled on one of the stories Princess Arianne had told him one sunny morning in her courtyard. She'd been a very good story-teller, even if most of her stories had culminated with her sitting on Renly's knee, shifting slightly in his lap as if she were aiming to get an arousal out of him. Unsurprisingly, she had never succeeded, and yet Renly had to admit that she'd been very good at telling stories.

“Our story begins in King’s Landing, Loras," Renly began. "-with the youngest king to ever have sat the throne. He was but fourteen when his father died.” 

“The young dragon.” Loras said bluntly. "Daeron the first." 

Renly laughed. “You're quite right. Daeron the first, a distant relative of mine." He smiled, trying to trace the Targaryen Kings' line back in his head. "He'd have been the nephew of my great great great great great great grandfather, King Viserys the second. See, Loras, this is practically family history."

“That’s a lot of greats.” Loras offered simply.

Renly grinned. “Indeed it is. Well this story, as you well know, begins with Daeron first of his name, the Boy King. And as with all boys of four and ten, his biggest wish was to go to war.” He poked Loras in the back gently. "That reminds me of someone. Someone who would probably jump for joy at the chance to fight in a real battle, even if they did have a broken collarbone and several broken ribs." 

Loras turned his head and raised an eyebrow sceptically. “I’m five and ten.”

“Same thing.” Renly laughed. "My point still stands. Anyway, Daeron was the youngest king to sit the Iron Throne and yet he wasn’t a very content one. Each and every morning he would walk up to the highest tower of the Red Keep and look out over the lands below. His crown upon his head, he would count the Kingdoms that were his. Seven Kingdoms there were before Aegon. The kingdom of the North, the Kingdom of Mountain and Vale, the Kingdom of Isles and Rivers, the Kingdom of the Rock, which is now the Westerlands of course, the Kingdom of the Reach, the Kingdom of the Stormlands, and of course the Kingdom of Dorne. Together they made seven, one kingdom for each of the gods.” Renly laughed, smiling o himself. "Well every morning Daeron counted those that were his and every morning his count remained the same. Daeron had but six of these kingdoms under his command." He grinned, kissing Loras' hair. "-and somehow _The Six Kingdoms_ just didn’t have the same ring to it as _The Seven Kingdoms_. And so each morning, he looked south, beyond the Reach, beyond the Red Mountains, to the desert that lay beyond. The desert that was the seventh kingdom.”

"Dorne." Loras said without any expression.

Renly nodded. “And so one day, Daeron grew tired of his six kingdoms. Brave and determined, he set out to finish the conquest Aegon had started. Leading his army himself, in a suit of gold and black plate, good choice of colours I might add, he led his army south. It was a huge army, four hundred thousand foot, and another hundred thousand knights, and tog-"

"I'm sure there's not that many soldiers in Westeros." Loras corrected.

"Three hundred thousand then." Renly laughed, lowering his estimate. He supposed he did have a habit of rather embellishing things.

"You're just making this up."

"Fine. He had a _large_ army. And together they marched through the Prince's Pass, tearing everything apart as they w-"

"There's nothing in the Prince's Pass to tear up. You told me that about a hundred thousand times when you went through it."

"Fine." Renly conceded. "-they marched through the Prince's Pass _without_ tearing everything up, and like an unstoppable wave breaking against the shore, they pillaged Dorne as they went. He had no dragons and yet one by one the houses of Dorne bent the knee to this young dragon from the capital. Ten thousand men were lost before they took Sunspear.”

"That's not very many if he had an army of three hundred thousand." Loras pointed out, not even turning round to look at him.

Renly sighed. "One hundred thousand then." Personally, he didn't think the exact number of soldiers Daeron had had mattered all that much, and yet they seemed to matter to Loras. He didn't have enough imagination to look past it.

"Oh it's one hundred thousand now?" Loras asked, proving him right. "That's pittance for a king. The reach can raise that alone."

"Two hundred thousand then. Didn't I say that?" He didn't wait for Loras to answer."And once Sunspear had fallen," Renly grinned. "Or shall we say after House Martell had bowed, bent and broken."

Loras groaned. “Please tell me you didn’t just say that?”

“I did.” Renly laughed and grinned sheepishly at the back of his head. “And so, with House Martell having bent the knee, the Young Dragon left one of his most trusted generals to rule in his stead. The young Lord of Highgarden." Renly paused and grinned at Loras. "I forget his name. It probably ended with an _a_ and an _s_. Well anyway, the young Tyrell moved from one keep to the next, chasing down any rebels with his knights, pushing their faces into the dirt whenever they stepped out of line. He was skilled, this young Tyrell, good with a sword, a cunning commander, and beloved by his knights, and yet he had one weakness. Can you guess?"

"He had a fondness for Dornish women." Loras said bluntly.

"You've already heard this story haven't you?" Renly asked, disappointed.

Loras raised an eyebrow. "Odd that." He said dryly. "But please, carry on. I was enjoying it so much."

Renly laughed and ignored the sarcasm dripping from his voice. "From keep to keep the young lord of Highgarden travelled, and at each one, he forced the Dornish lord out of his chambers, sleeping there in his place. And each and every night, he would summon a wench, pulling on the sash near his pillows. One would always arrive shortly, bare chested and draped in silk, their hair dark and luscious."

"I'm sure I shall fantasise all night." 

Renly laughed and pressed a kiss into his hair. "I'm glad my descriptions are of service." He grinned and wrapped an arm a little tighter around him. "Well, one night, the young lord of Highgarden found himself in a particularly luxurious bed, a handsome one draped in purple silks and with a heavy velvet canopy. His lust was strong that night and like usual, he pulled on the sash at the side of the bed. He pulled it hard, watching the door for the wench to appear. It was then that the velvet canopy opened, and a hundred red scorpions fell upon him. Desperately, he scrambled to escape the bed, and yet he wasn't fast enough. The servants found him the next morning, stone cold and dead."

"And this is supposed to _persuade_ me to stay in bed?" Loras asked sceptically. He glanced up at the canopy of his own bed. "You haven't hidden scorpions up there have you? If I summon you tonight shall I find out quite how much you love me?"

Renly raised an eyebrow, leaning his head on the top of Loras'.  "As if I could be summoned." He laughed. "Well, do you want to hear the ending or not?"

"I expect you shall tell me regardless of whether I want it."

Renly laughed. "You know me too well Loras. The news of the young Tyrells death spread quickly. Houses that had previously bent the knee rose up with renewed hope, and in a fortnight all the Young Dragon had won was undone as quickly as it had been made. King Daeron of course tried to retake his seventh kingdom, and yet this time, he didn't fare so well. He perished in the battle, and it wasn't until his brother Baelor the Blessed ascended the throne in his place that the Kingdoms were whole again. A Targaeryen Princess in Sunspear was all it took." Renly chuckled to himself. "It's sad really. A wedding succeeded where two hundred thousand soldiers failed." 

Loras shrugged. "I suppose weddings are more agreable than invasions. Less interesting though." He turned to Renly gingerly, his side evidently troubling him. "As fun as this was, I think I prefer our usual before bedtime activities." 

Renly laughed. "I dare say I do too. You'll have to wait, though, for anything of the sort." Taking Loras gently in his arms, he rolled over to lie down properly, lying Loras on his good side and pressing him to his chest. 

Loras sighed, burying his face in Renly's neck. "Can you sleep in here with me tonight?" He asked. "

Renly hesitated. He hadn't liked to so far. Whilst part of him worried about the maester trying to pay a visit in the morning, what he really worried about was hurting Loras in his sleep, inadvertently rolling over onto him or forcing him out of bed. He wanted to, though, rather desperately in fact. He missed having Loras close, missed getting to hold him as he fell asleep. 

Smiling, he nodded. "On one condition, though?" He asked.

Loras glared at him. "What?"

"That you shall stay in bed tomorrow."  
  
"Fine." Loras snapped, looking more than a little disgruntled. He didn't draw away though and Renly held him as tightly as he dared to his chest. Loras would never admit it, but Renly knew he wasn't really angry with him at all. Loras just didn't have it in him to seriously lose his temper over something so small, not with him at least. He definitely did with everyone else.


	81. Chapter 81

Renly didn't remember shutting the drapes and yet it was still dark when Renly woke. It was rare that he awoke so in the middle of the night but as he opened his eyes sleepily, Renly found he rather liked it. It was rather reassuring to lie there, pressed up against Loras, knowing that it would be some time yet before he had to even think about getting out of bed. Loras' chest was pleasantly warm against his own, and Renly thought he'd have been impossibly comfortable had it not been for the fact that Loras' curls were tickling Renly's neck unbearably with each breath that he took. It made Renly want to laugh, or sneeze, perhaps both even, and so he loosened an arm from around Loras' waist to push his curls back from his forehead. It was in vain, he quickly found. Loras' hair simply sprung back as if it had a mind of its own. It wouldn't have surprised Renly if it did have a mind of its own; he imagined that it would take all of the seven gods and more to even begin to tame Loras' hair and make it obey.

Sighing, he gave up. Short of moving Loras, which he would have been reluctant to do even if Loras wasn't so fragile at the moment, he didn't really see what there was that he could do. Vaguely, he toyed with the idea of trying to tie Loras' hair back off his face with something and yet Renly didn't imagine the strands were long enough. It was long enough to tickle him half to death but too short to be tamed with a piece of ribbon or string.

Stifling a yawn, he rubbed his eyes, pleased to see that he seemingly hadn't either crushed Loras or pushed him inadvertently out of bed. He'd worried quite a bit about that and he'd half expected to find Loras on the floor come morning, even more broken than he already was. As it was, though, Loras was pressed against him, his head tucked under Renly's chin neatly. Renly rather liked him there. Somehow it made him feel as if he were keeping Loras safe, which was an nonsensical thought at best, seeing as if any misfortune did befall them then it would definitely have been Loras protecting them and not the other way round. All the same though, Renly let himself believe his own nonsense for a couple of moments. He supposed that this was how a man ought to feel, protective and watchful as he sheltered the weak vulnerable creature curled up next to him from the cold and from harm. Loras was neither weak nor vulnerable and the room was quite safe with nothing malicious lurking within, and yet Renly supposed that that was why the gods had kindly blessed him with an imagination.

Yawning, he sighed deeply, making the offending curls flutter slightly. "You awake Loras?" He asked, putting his arm back around him and running his hands up and down his back. He didn't know if that would help with the pain and yet he knew Loras would probably like it anyhow. He always did like being touched and more often than not, he'd arch his back up against Renly's fingers, all too like a cat begging to be stroked.

"Yes." Loras answered softly. He lifted his head up and rolled over slightly, letting Renly's hands guide him the rest of the way until he was lying on his back. “I can’t sleep.” He told him, staring up at the ceiling.

“Why not?” Renly rested his head against Loras' uninjured shoulder, smiling as Loras ran a hand up the back of his neck and into his hair. The tables had turned now and he wondered if Loras ever liked to imagine that he was keeping Renly safe or shielding him from the long list of indescribable terrors that undoubtedly hid in Storm's End. Renly imagined not. Loras always had had more sense than him.

“I can’t breathe Renly, it hurts." He said, sounding unusually sorry for himself.

Renly frowned into his shoulder. He hated to think of Loras in pain. “Do you want me to get you some milk of the poppy?” He asked. For Loras to complain of it, he knew that the pain had to be bad. Loras wasn't one to make a mountain out of a molehill, or to make a fuss out of a little aching. In fact, Renly couldn't remember him ever admitting being in pain before this. On reflection, he supposed that he might have done a rare few times, when Renly was bedding him most probably, and yet it was certainly few and far between.

Loras grimaced as if the idea of milk of the poppy offended him. "No." He said firmly. It seemed that Loras still hadn't forgotten how ill the milk of the poppy had made him. The maester had offered it to him often and yet each time Loras refused. He seemed to be fearful of anything that would forcefully make him sleep and Renly supposed he didn't blame him. He didn't like to admit it now, but he'd been more than a little frightened when Loras had slept for what had seemed an unnaturally long time.

“Dream Wine then?” Renly asked. This was milder and Renly hoped Loras would have no objection to it.

Loras shook his head. "I'm fine." He said, continuing to stare up at the ceiling. "You go back to sleep Renly." He put his hand back in Renly's hair, running his fingers through the strands.

Renly sighed as he continued, shutting his eyes and putting his head further into the crook of Loras' neck. Sleep was a tempting prospect and yet he didn't like to think of Loras lying here awake, in pain and with only himself for company. He yawned, sitting up and running a hand through his tousled hair. "I know what we'll do." He said. "We shall sit up and wait for the dawn. I did promise you after all that I would show you the sunrise didn't I?"

Loras laughed, the sound coming out a little choked as if it hurt him to make such a noise. "This room faces the wrong way." He said, sounding a little disappointed.

"I know it does." Renly helped Loras sit up, kissing his nose when Loras screwed up his face in pain. "We shall go up to the battlements." Leaning over the edge of the bed, he picked up Loras' outer garments, pulling everything over his head gently before fastening Loras' cloak tightly around his neck as if he was bundling up a child to go out in winter.

Loras raised an eyebrow. "According to you, I'm bedridden Renly. As far as I'm aware, the battlements are not in my bed."

Renly grinned. "I shall take you." He stood and pulled on his own shirt. "Come on then, Loras." He laughed, scooping him up before Loras could even get a word in. "Let's get the invalid up the stairs."

Loras was very heavy picked up like that and whilst getting him down the corridor was easy enough, the stairs looked to be more of a challenge. Renly took them one at a time, trying not to focus on how Loras got heavier and heavier with each step. To give him his due, Loras seemed to be trying to help as much as he could. He'd put the arm on his good side around Renly's neck as if he were trying to spread his weight. It didn't do much and yet Renly was appreciative of the effort.

He had to pause halfway up. "Just give me a minute." He panted to Loras, depositing him as gently as he could on his feet and trying to remember how to breathe himself. Climbing the stairs up to the very top of the castle was hard enough as it was, let alone when carrying someone in your arms.

"I _can_ walk you know." Loras said, smirking a little.

"You are walking nowhere." Renly said as he leant against the wall and got his breath back. "Especially not up stairs." He was determined about that. The maester had told Loras to rest and Renly was adamant he would get that rest. This was one of the rare occasions, it seemed, when he was willing to be a lot more sensible than Loras was. Renly just had to wonder what it would have been like had it been the other way round, with him injured. He couldn't say either way really whether Loras would have insisted he follow the maester's orders and stay in bed.

Loras laughed and joined him in leaning against the wall. "Alright." He said. "I shall walk nowhere."

"Still in pain?" Renly asked.

Loras shrugged ever so lightly, yawning and sinking down onto the floor. "Yes. But watching you struggle to breathe against that wall is taking my mind off it very very nicely."

"Be nice." Renly laughed. "I've just carried you up more stairs than I care to think about." Taking a deep breath, he bent to pick Loras back up, hooking one arm around Loras' shoulders and the other under his knees.

"I'm impressed." Loras commented as he put his arm back around his neck. "That's difficult."

"Did you doubt my strength?" Renly asked, readjusting Loras in his arms and tackling the first step.

"Just a little."

Renly just rolled his eyes. He knew Loras was teasing. He was certainly stronger than Loras by a long way, and probably always would be, in spite of the fact that Loras worked at it and he didn't. He was just built that way, broad where Loras was slight. It was one of those things that Renly quite enjoyed, knowing that he'd always be able to throw Loras about a little.

 

..........

It was still dark when Renly pushed open the heavy stone door that opened out onto the parapets. The air was warm, though, and the stars were just beginning to fade as if they knew that dawn was on its way. There was just about enough light, though, to make out the water one hundred and fifty feet below them, and yet even if they hadn't been able to see, the sound would have been enough. The waves crashed against the stone loudly, the white foam spraying up against the wall with each ebb and flow. It was a sound Renly had grown up with, one that he could hear from his chambers too, and there was something oddly reassuring about it. Renly rather wished he could hear the sea from his rooms in King's Landing.

The going was flat now and Renly put Loras down on his feet so he could walk. "Come on," He said. "Let's get a good view." He took Loras by the arm just in case he decided he was going to slip and injure himself further and led him along the battlements. He knew the best spot for looking out over the bay. Ironically, perhaps, it was also the spot where he knew Stannis and Robert had once stood to watch their parents drown.

He sighed, and leaning forward out over the parapets, tried to imagine what it had looked like. He'd seen several ships come in to dock here in his time and yet he'd never seen any go down. A few had, he knew, but he'd never been allowed to watch. Stannis, and later Penrose, had always had him taken to his chambers. Sinking ships were apparently not for the eyes of children. Renly supposed he should be grateful. He didn't really need help imagining what it had been like to see the Windproud crash upon the rocks.

"Do you miss them?" Loras' voice was quiet and he gazed out to sea with him. "In all these years I've never asked."

Renly smiled wryly. He didn't need to ask who Loras was referring to. "I suppose you haven't." He admitted. He came to stand behind him, looping his arms round his waist and standing on tip toe to rest his chin on the top of Loras' head. The sky was beginning to lighten now, the approaching sun chasing away the shadows in the sky.

"Well do you?" Loras breathed. He laid a hand over Renly's own, clasped as they were around his waist. His fingers were warm and Renly smiled a little sadly to himself. He didn't miss his parents and yet he knew that if the boy in front of him were to disappear as his mother and father had done, then he would most likely throw himself off these very battlements in despair.

"No." Renly told him. "I don't think I do miss them. Not much at least."

"Did you always know they were dead?" Loras asked softly. "Was it just one of those things you always just knew?"

Renly shifted slightly as he thought about that, coming down off his tiptoes and looking out at the water over Loras' shoulder. He tilted his head to kiss Loras' neck, lingering there as he delayed answering. The sun's light was dawning over the horizon now, casting shimmering patterns on the surface of the water and scattering light as far as the eye could see. It was beautiful and Renly just held Loras a little tighter as the sky was painted orange, the darkness turning to yellows and reds as if some unknown artist was sweeping a flaming brush across it.

"No." Renly sighed. "I didn't always know."

Loras turned his head slightly towards him, his face painted in the same colours of the sky. "So when did you realise?" He asked, his voice low.

Renly brought a hand to his face, tracing the contours of Loras' cheek as he gazed out still out over the water. The sun itself was rising now, streaking the sky with pinks and purples as it hung low in the sky, so low that it was hard to believe that it hadn't set actually the water alight as wildfire did.

"I was four when I realised." He told Loras. "One of my,  _Robert's_ , bannermen was coming to feast with us, not that Robert was there of course, and my nursemaids were dressing me. They'd put me in my finest clothes, in silks and little velvet breeches that were fit for a prince." He sighed deeply. "And after they were done, one of them dusted me down and remarked to the other how proud lord Steffon and lady Cassana would have been of me." He smiled wryly to himself and twisted one of Loras' curls around his finger, the strand painted almost golden in the growing light. "And I didn't know who they were. They were foreign names to me, ones that stirred no memory." He laughed. "And so, like any child would, I asked. I turned to my nursemaid and demanded to know who this Lord Steffon and Lady Cassana were. And she was shocked that I didn't know. She told me that I should ask my brother."

Loras didn't turn his head this time and yet Renly knew he was listening. "And did you?" He asked, the top of his head bathed in a gilded light.

Renly smiled at the back of his head and tucked one of Loras' curls behind his ear. "Yes, I did. Just before dinner. I found Stannis with our maester, not maester Jurne, a different maester. He was called maester Cressen. And I asked the two of them if they knew who this Steffon and Cassana were that the nursemaids had been talking about."

"And what did they say?" Loras did turn now and his expression was hard to read. Slowly, Renly took his head in his hands and turned it back in the direction of the dawn.

"Well, they looked at each other for a good while and then Stannis bent down to look at me. They were our mother and father, he told me. I knew what a mother was, and what a father was, and yet it had never occurred to me to wonder why we didn't have one." He sighed."I wondered then, though, out loud. Stannis didn't lie, he didn't coat his words with false sweetness either, he just told me very bluntly that they were dead now." He pressed a kiss into Loras' curls, smiling wistfully at the reflection of the sun on the water as it shimmered with the ebb and flow of the sea, shattering repeatedly and then reforming with each new wave. "I didn't really understand what he meant. I knew the word but I didn't really understand how.. well how _final_ death is. I thought they'd gone on a trip or something, that these people I didn't know would be coming back."

That seemed to pain Loras more than the broken bones in his chest did and he turned sharply, looking up at him with a sort of doleful expression. Part of Renly wanted to stop there and he sighed deeply, making Loras' curls fly wildly off his face. He supposed he ought not to be surprised that this upset Loras more than it upset him. Loras, he supposed, had something to compare it to.

"And so I asked Stannis how long they would be gone for." He laughed wryly. He couldn't remember how Stannis' face had been when he had asked that and yet he could imagine the stoniness well.

"And what did he say?" Loras whispered.

"He told me that they'd wouldn't ever be coming back, that they would be gone forever. I cried then, I don't really know why, seeing as I hadn't known this mother and father of ours even existed until that afternoon. But I cried all the same, so much that I had to miss dinner. Maester Cressen ate with me in my chambers while I wept."

Loras didn't really say much and Renly wondered whether he was imagining his own parents dying. He was biting down on his lower lip, seemingly at a loss for what to say. It was an odd expression on Loras' face, a plaintive sort of desperate one, and Renly didn't like it one bit. "Were you ever so upset?" He breathed, and Renly prayed to all the gods, the old and the new, that Loras would never have to lose anybody dear to him for a long time yet. Especially not the parents that he idolised.

Renly smiled. "No, I wasn't so very upset Loras. And it didn't last long. The nursemaid who'd mentioned them to me felt more than a little guilty. She felt my tears were her fault and so she made me this big cloak out of strips of orange and red material." He laughed. "I forgot all about our parents by the next morning and I pretended to be a dragon instead."

Loras laughed at that, the sound making Renly smile even though it made Loras wince a little. "You are funny Renly." He told him. "Did you often pretend to be a dragon?"

Renly grinned and leant heavily against the parapets, taking Loras' hand. "Oh yes." He admitted. "I was a most imaginative little boy. Some days I was a dragon, others a wizard. Occasionally I was even one of the gods. I was the Warrior once, with a wooden sword Robert had sent me, and the Stranger, with a black piece of cloth I'd pinched from the floor when Stannis was being fitted for some dull garment or another." He laughed. "Once I was even the rain god, and I poured a whole bucket of water over an innocent chamber maid."

Loras laughed and Renly smiled widely at him, pleased to see him happy again. He wondered very briefly whether he ought to be embarrassed of the rather odd whims he'd had as a child. He very much doubted Loras had ever pretended to be a dragon, or a rain god. He dismissed the thought as quickly as it had come, though. That was the beautiful thing, he thought, about Loras. He could be quite safe in the knowledge that Loras would love him irregardless of his foolishness, irregardless of everything really.

Still smiling, he pulled Loras closer until he was almost tucked into his shoulder, and together, they turned to watch the rest of the sunrise.


	82. Chapter 82

Loras improved with each passing day and yet still he he seemed unable to fall asleep. He'd lie awake all night, tossing and turning even though it pained him and never seeming to be able to get comfortable in the slightest. It hurt to breathe, he insisted, and indeed Renly would often see Loras wince as he drew in breath. This seemed all too worrying to Renly and yet the maester did not seem troubled in the slightest. This was normal, he always told a rather fretful Renly each morning, that it pained Loras to breathe because of the way in which the ribcage moved with each breath. He offered Loras every concoction under the sun: dreamwine, nightshade, milk of the poppy, very mild herbs that he'd collected in the gardens. Loras refused it all. And so the maester resorted to giving him warm milk before bed, like he would a child. The maester maintained that it had sleep inducing properties and yet Renly rather doubted it did anything of use except make Loras feel like he was being treated like a boy.  

Renly usually lay awake next to him, trying to comfort him. He didn't think he'd have been able to sleep even if he truly wanted to. Loras would fidget restlessly, and even when he closed his eyes, Renly couldn't ever manage to stop worrying about him and let himself sleep.

Eventually though, after the third sleepless night in a row, Renly found himself at the very end of his tether.

"Loras," He ventured that evening, knowing that he would have to tread very carefully here. "I was thinking."

Loras raised his head from where he was lying on his bed. "What about?" He asked. 

"Well, I was thinking perhaps that you ought to take something for the pain tonight." He brought out a tiny glass bottle from his pockets. "I talked to the maester earlier and this is half a spoon of milk of the poppy, Loras. It'll hardly do anything, just let you relax enough to fall asleep."

"I don't want it." Loras said as usual as if by rote now. He evidently thought Renly a traitor for even suggesting it and clearly miffed, he turned his head away. Renly just couldn't understand it. Loras had to be as tired as he was, more so even, and yet still he seemed determined to be difficult.

Renly sighed. "As you like Loras." He put the glass bottle back in his pocket. "But I'm going to have to sleep in my own chambers tonight then."

Loras' face visibly fell. "Oh." He said.

Renly sat down next to him on the bed and leant down to stroke his hair back off his face. "I'm sorry Loras, but I'm exhausted. I need to sleep too." Unlike Loras, he actually needed to get things done as well. He didn't think he could face another morning of staring blankly down at his papers, too tired to read more than two words at a time.

Loras frowned. "Don't feel you have to stay awake just because I do. Couldn't you just sleep next to me regardless?"

Renly sighed. "It's possible yes, but we both know I shall do no such thing if I'm here." He knew that without a doubt he would lie awake with Loras as he always did, and he knew too that if he did that then he would probably fall asleep at his desk tomorrow morning as he had done the last two days in a row. 

Loras looked a little crestfallen. "Alright." He said. Wincing, he climbed into bed and pulled the covers up over himself. The collarbone must have been healing because for once he used both arms. "I shall see you in the morning then."

Renly felt awful as he made his way back to his own chambers and yet he didn't see what other choice he had. His guilty conscience tugged relentlessly at his heartstrings, but Renly just had to ignore it. He didn't think he'd ever been more tired than he was now, and getting to bed was all he could properly focus on. He couldn't think straight and he knew he wouldn't be able to until he'd had a decent night's sleep. Besides, the sensible part of Renly told him that this would be good for Loras. It might teach him that he actually needed to listen to what the maester told him.

Renly fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. It was pure bliss and yet it seemed only seconds later that he was forced awake once more. Groaning, he opened his eyes blearily and tightened his grip on covers that seemed to be being pulled out of his hands. Almost instantaneously, he felt something warm sink down next to him.

"Loras?" He groaned.

"Go back to sleep." Loras whispered. "I just want to lie next to you."

He sounded so plaintive that Renly' protests died in his mouth. He didn't have the heart or the energy to deny him now and so he just opened his arms and let Loras bury his head in his shoulder. He was warm against him and yet whilst Renly didn't think he'd ever get tired of holding him close, he knew that he wouldn't be dropping back off to sleep for a good while now. Loras' breathing was pained and laboured in his ear and as usual, it tore Renly's heart in two. He knew it was infantile of him to worry so now; Loras, of course, would have been in just as much pain when he was back in his own chambers and yet it was just so much easier to ignore when he wasn't lying next to him. 

Sighing, Renly sat up and reached over to the bedside table, fingers finding the small glass bottle easily. Carefully, he pulled the cork stopper out, laughing wryly to himself as he did so. He was more than a little accustomed to waking up and having to fiddle around with such things. Usually though, it was because he and Loras were desperate to fuck each other, not because he trying to convince Loras to drink milk of the poppy. 

"Please?" He asked, showing Loras the bottle. "I can't bear to see you suffer, Loras." 

Loras shook his head and had he been anybody else Renly might have slapped him round the face out of pure frustration. 

Renly shut his eyes. Part of him was tempted to take the bloody stuff himself. He sighed deeply, running his hands through his hair. "Look Loras," He sighed, taking Loras' hands in his own. "I am exhausted. You are exhausted. And if I don't get at least some sleep tonight, I swear to the gods that I will lose my temper. Quite possibly with you." He tilted Loras' head back with a gentle hand and kissed him softly. "I don't want that, and I expect you don't either." He held up the bottle. "So please. For me?"

Loras bit down on his lower lip and very very reluctantly reached out for the bottle. For a good long moment Renly was sure he was going to spill it purposefully as if by accident. Eventually though, he tipped it into his mouth, making a face as he swallowed

"Thank the gods." Renly breathed, feeling like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He wrapped his arms back around him as Loras lay back down. The milk of the poppy didn't make him sleep immediately as the larger doses had but within a few minutes, Renly could see his eyes beginning to close and his breathing slowing considerably. Renly just lay his head on top of his and breathed a sigh of relief. Pulling the covers up properly over both of them, he waited until Loras was properly asleep until he shut his own eyes.

 

 

.........

Loras slept like a babe all night and was still sound asleep in the morning when Renly woke. His curls had fallen over his face and he had his arm round one of Renly's pillows. It was quite unlike him to wake after he did and Renly wondered now whether he'd been wrong in insisting that Loras take milk of the poppy last night, whether perhaps if the liquid just didn't agree with him.

Loras was still asleep by the time he'd got himself up and dressed and so, a little agitated, Renly took himself off to find Maester Jurne. He found him in the solar, sat with Penrose by the window.

"You promised me it wouldn't make him sleep like last time." Renly said as he approached. 

The maester seemed to exactly who and what he was talking about and he sighed. "When did he drink it, my lord?" He asked. 

Renly thought. "Just after midnight perhaps." He looked anxiously down at the maester. "Well?"

The maester chuckled. "My lord, it's barely mid-morning. He hasn't slept properly since you brought him here. It won't be the milk of the poppy that's making him sleep now. It'll be sheer exhaustion."

Penrose nodded. "Half a spoon is almost nothing Renly. Don't worry yourself. Let him sleep, he'll feel better for it. And it gives us a bit of peace and quiet this morning."

Renly supposed he can't have looked placated, for the maester patted his arm. "I can come and have a look if you're worried." He said, his voice kind.

Renly shook his head a little reluctantly. It was a tempting offer but he didn't think his pride could handle having to admit to the maester that Loras was asleep in his bed. Silent acknowledgement of the intimacy between him and Loras was one thing, but having to lead the maester to his own chambers where Loras was asleep in a bed they'd clearly both slept in that night, that was a different thing altogether.

Penrose smirked at his refusal. "He's some place he oughtn't be perhaps Renly?"

Renly scowled at him, and had he not been a lord, he might have nudged him hard under the table to get him to be quiet. Penrose merely laughed at him, though.

The maester didn't appear to have heard, though, and Renly was glad.

 

 

........ 

Renly returned to his chambers shortly after and whilst he was a little worried to see that Loras was still asleep, he felt a little calmed by the maester's words. On reflection, he supposed he'd been silly to fret so. Looking at Loras objectively, he didn't seem anything like that first time when the maester at Bronzegate had given him too much milk of the poppy. He was a normal colour and he wasn't limp and still as he had been then. He'd stir every now and again and Renly reckoned that if he shook him, he'd probably wake up.

Leaving him be, Renly sat down at his desk and reached for the vial of ink. Taking a new piece of parchment, he set himself to writing a letter to a westerlands lord who wished to send one of his more notorious prisoners to be locked up in the Red Keep, on account apparently of his eighth sucessful attempt at escaping. Renly thought the lord a little silly for his seeming ability to keep a man behind bars, but he didn't really see any reason to refuse him. The gaols were the emptiest they probably ever had been in the history of Traitor's Walk, and besides, he was more than a little curious to see quite how good this alleged master of escape was. 

He was almost done when there was a knock at the door, and Renly put down his quill warily. "Who is it?" He inquired.

"Me, my lord." Penrose's voice came through the wood.

Renly sighed and got up, opening the door and stepping outside. "Yes?"

Penrose raised an eyebrow but didn't mention his evident reluctance to let him inside. Instead, he handed Renly a letter. "Royal seal." He remarked.

Renly sighed and tore it open. It wasn't long and it was in what he thought was Robert's hand. It wasn't signed, though, and the words were all over the page, wobbly like a child's hand might be. Renly could just about manage to read it and he stood for a good couple of minutes in the corridor trying to deduce what several parts of it were even going on about. Some of Robert's phrasing just didn't make any sense and he seemed to have lost any ability he'd ever had to spell words correctly. 

He laughed. "I think, and this is partly a guess, that Robert wants me back in King's Landing before my name day." He told Penrose who was waiting expectantly. 

"What for?" Penrose raised an eyebrow. "Are you missing too many small council meetings for his grace's liking?"

"Gods no, apparently on my name day we're going hunting. And then we're going to a brothel, in the RIverlands of course, before we then roast our kills, probably as the Riverlands wenches continue to entertain us." He passed the letter to Penrose. "You have to read this."

Penrose took it a little curiously, his eyebrows slowly moving up his forehead as he read. "The king wrote this?" He asked in disbelief.

"Mmm-hmm." Renly laughed. "Drunk as usual. Aren't you just green with envy right now? Wouldn't you just love to be the brother of the king?" He'd thought it a marvellous turn of events at first, he remembered. He'd spent weeks after Robert's coronation wandering around and telling everyone who would listen that his brother was the king, which had been practically everyone, seeing of course that his brother was indeed the king. It had been at this time too that he'd been convinced that as Robert's brother he'd be a prince. And as far as he knew, they should have been. At one point Stannis had indeed been the heir to the throne and he had been second in line. Renly still wasn't quite sure of the technicalities of why they weren't, and yet he personally reckoned that it probably just boiled down to Robert wanting to slight Stannis by refusing him the honour of styling himself so. All the same, Renly thought it a damned shame. He'd have very much liked to be a prince.

Penrose was nodding grimly. "I'd better not say a word my lord." He said with a chuckle. "I dare say you can say things about the king that us commoners can't get away with."

Renly laughed. "I suppose I can. Anyway, he shall get his wish. I shall leave as soon as Loras is fit to travel."

Penrose nodded and inclined his head towards the door. "Still asleep is he? He raised an eyebrow and smiled knowingly. "Or was I interrupting something a lot more intimate?"

Renly felt the blood rush to his cheeks, and rolling his eyes, he gave the door a push, letting it swing open to reveal that it was definitely the former. He was thankful for once that Loras was fully clothed. Part of him was sorely tempted to ask Penrose not to talk so openly about him and Loras, to stop jesting about it and poking fun, and yet he held his tongue. Loras, he knew, would think this evidence that he was humilated by what they did together, ashamed of him. It was an accusation Loras made worryingly frequently, with varying levels of seriousness, and an accusation too that Renly feared was also worryingly true. Despite everything he'd insist to Loras, they both knew that he _was_ embarrassed about anyone knowing of what went on between them behind closed doors, and as much as Renly wished he wasn't bothered by it, he just couldn't simply ignore how the rest of the realm viewed such things. Loras appeared to manage to do just that and yet Renly had to wonder if Loras truly wouldn't mind if, instead of hailing him as the glorious Knight of Flowers, the small-folk began to shun him, telling their sons and daughters that nobody should admire a knight who bent over for another man.

Penrose, meanwhile, had wandered over to Loras, bending down slightly to peer at him. "Bless him." He said wryly. "He's fast asleep." Chuckling slightly to himself, he sighed, looking lost in memories for a few moments." I remember when he arrived, Renly. He was so adamant that he would not be going to bed until you received him. You wouldn't believe it to look at him now would you?" He patted Loras on the head in the most patronising way he could have managed.

"Careful there." Renly warned, following him in and laughing despite the fact that his cheeks were still pink. "He wakes up easily."

"Bites does he?"

"Probably." Renly admitted. "He'd most likely put a fist in your face if he woke and saw you looming over him. You're lucky he doesn't have a sword in reach really." He wasn't really joking either.

"I dare say he wouldn't do the same to you." Penrose laughed, standing up straight. 

"Probably not." Renly admitted, feeling his cheeks turning from faintly pink to red. 

Penrose sighed and walked back to the door. He paused in the doorway and turned back towards him, his expression pensive. He looked like he was wondering whether to speak or not, and yet eventually, he evidently decided to do so. "If you don't mind me asking my lord," He said quietly. "What shall happen if one of you takes a wife?" He looked back over at Loras' sleeping form. 

Renly looked away. "I don't really know." He admitted quietly. "I dare say Loras shall never marry, but me, I suppose that I shall throw my vows to the winds and that any marriage of mine shall not be a particularly happy one." He sighed, looking wistfully too over at Loras. "We try not to think about it too much."

Penrose sighed. "Renly, you're kind and you've a gentle hand, I dare say that any marriage of yours will be better than many." 

Renly nodded. He knew Penrose was right and yet that wasn't truly what worried him. Loras had promised him once that he'd stand by him when and if he took a wife, and Renly knew he would, he knew that from the bottom of his heart. He didn't know, however, whether Loras would ever be truly content with that, whether he'd find it was enough or whether his taking a wife would chase away the smile from Loras' face and dim the light in his his eyes. He glanced once more over at Loras, more anxiously this time.

"Yes, Penrose," He agreed. "I dare say a lady could do worse, but what about..." He trailed off. "What if-?"

"He shall cope." Penrose told him with conviction. "You know he shall."

Renly nodded feebly. He certainly hoped so.

Penrose sighed deeply. "Renly," He said. "I dare say Loras has his faults, all of which I am always too happy to point out." He smiled wryly. "His devotion to you on the other hand. Nobody could ever fault him that. He loves you Renly, and it's evident in everything he does, everything he says. You _know_ he shall cope."

Renly just closed his eyes, nodding blankly as he heard Penrose shut the door behind him. 


	83. Chapter 83

Loras agreed to take the milk of the poppy that was given to him for the next couple of nights as well and it seemed to Renly that he slept better than he'd ever done before. The rest appeared to do him good and he seemed more himself, less disagreeable and slightly less prone to sulking. The maester was even pleased with him for once, telling him that he was finally seeing sense. Whilst that had immediately made Loras revert back to being both disagreeable and very prone to sulking, the sentiment had nevertheless been true all the same.

Loras came to sleep in Renly's chambers now, which had been the norm back when Loras had been his squire, and somehow Renly preferred it like that. Whilst Loras had the same rooms now that he'd had when he'd been fostered here, they were bare and empty now, the chambers of a guest rather than someone who called the castle home. The absence of Loras' things there thus was somehow a constant reminder of how much had changed. With Loras in his chambers, Renly could do his best to imagine that they were still master and squire, still at Storm's End with little to no duties to perform. 

The only telling difference that times had changed was that Loras continued to wake later than he did and so Renly continued their pattern of working whilst Loras slept. Today, though, the sun was so bright in the sky, and the air so fresh that Renly couldn't bear to sit at his table and write letters. Instead, he threw open the windows and pulled a chair into the sunlight that was streaming through the open windows. It was warm on his face and his only regret was that he was unable to reach over and touch Loras from here, lying as he was on his side of the bed near the door.

Renly smiled as he turned his head to watch him. The sunlight had bathed his face in golden light and he really was a vision. It was odd, though, Renly thought, how he and Loras had seemed to have claimed different sides of the bed. As a child, he'd always used to lie in the middle, with plenty of space around him to stretch out as he pleased. Now, though, he always took the right side whilst Loras took the left. He supposed that that stemmed from when Loras had been his squire. The left side of his bed was nearer the door and so when Loras had arrived each and every morning to wake him, Renly had always found himself rolling over to the right side to make room for him. Somewhere along the line the habit had stuck, and now even if Loras wasn't there Renly reckoned that he more or less stuck to one side of the bed.

Loras stirred then, arching a little in his sleep. It was so inviting that Renly couldn't bear to leave him be then, and moving to sit on the bed, Renly joined him, shifting Loras' head into his lap and setting himself to untangling Loras' curls for him as he often did. Today, they seemed particularly tangled, though and growing frustrated with how little progress he was making, he stood up to retrieve the brush by the looking glass before resuming.

It was absent-mindedly that he ran the brush through Loras' curls, feeling how silky the strands were under his fingers as he watched the sea out of the window. The waves were still today, and the surface of the water was almost glassy, a marvellous sheen of greens and blues that changed colour depending on how you looked at it. The sky was clear too, and for once the dazzling island of Tarth was visible from his window, a lone island in a sea of sapphire. 

He was still running the brush through Loras' curls when Loras seemed to stir, calling his name in a voice that didn't sound sleepy but sounded more than a little confused.

“Mmm?” Renly murmured, running a his fingers over Loras' cheek as he tried to make out Evenfall Hall in the distance.

“What in the seven hells do you think you’re doing?”

Renly frowned. “I’m brushing your hair for you. Don’t you like it?” He thought he'd spotted Evenfall Hall now, it was a tiny speck of black perched on one of Tarth's rolling green hills. He wondered absent-mindedly whether that maid had become any less homely in the past year.

Loras sighed deeply. “Why don’t you just take a look and see what you’ve done Renly?” Renly glanced down and almost dropped the brush in surprise. Loras’ hair was usually curly and it wasn’t curly now. It was a ball of fluff, and whilst Renly had thought Loras’ hair was frizzy when it got damp, Renly realised now that he hadn’t ever properly understood the full meaning of that word. Loras looked more than a little like he'd been dragged through a hedge backwards over and over again.

“But you brush your hair all the time.” He protested, just staring down at it. “I see you do it. I swear that I see you.”

“When it’s wet.” Loras agreed, rolling his eyes at him. “I can safely tell you that I’ve never brushed my hair when it’s dry since I was about six. And that was only by accident then." He laughed. "It was right before a feast with our bannermen and Garlan convinced both me and Margaery that we ought to brush our hair to look pretty. I think our mother despaired.”

Renly laughed a little sheepishly. “Well, er…” He wanted to apologise and yet he just couldn’t take Loras seriously looking like that. Before he could form his sentence he just trailed off laughing again.

Loras rolled his eyes once more. “Laugh.” He said, running a hand through his hair and looking a little despairing. “See if I care.”

Renly pulled him to his chest and pressed a kiss into his hair. “It _is_ very soft and fluffy.” He said, trying to find a bright side to look on. Loras looked rather like a sheep, Renly thought, one of those lambs that had a very thick downy coat.

“You talk like that is a good thing.” Loras scoffed. He tried to flatten it with his hands, twirling strands round his fingers as if he could force it back into ringlets. It did absolutely nothing, and Renly supposed now that Loras' usual hair could be considered tame by comparison.

Renly laughed and fluffed it up some more. “Look,” He said. “You can sort of shape it.” He ran his fingers through it upwards. “It stands up on end if you do that.”

Loras raised an eyebrow but let him play around with it anyway. It really did make the most interesting shapes, Renly found. He was a little flattered that Loras didn't seem to mind him seeing. He knew that had anyone else been in the room, Loras would have hidden and refused to come out until he'd managed to return himself to his usual elegant self. As it was though, he seemed a tiny bit disgruntled but was happy too to sit still under Renly's hands and let him push his hair first one way and then the other.

Loras laughed after a few minutes, though. “I know you’ll refuse me now, but would you still want to fuck me like this? Would you still want me?”

“Hmmm.” Renly pretended to consider him for a moment before leaning in to kiss him. “I think I’d be able to cope with it.” He laughed as he fluffed it up once more. “You really do look ridiculous though.” He sighed. “I guess we won’t be handsome forever, though.” He added a little doubtfully. He was all too aware that Robert had once been as comely as he was now. One would surely not know it to look at him now, though. His cheeks sagged under the weight of his flesh, and his stomach protruded over his hips. He was a shadow of the man that Renly remembered him as and Renly wondered whether he ought to fear walking down the same path.

Loras scoffed, though. “Speak for yourself.” He leant in to kiss him. “I’m planning on staying handsome for a long while yet.”

Renly laughed and leant back to lounge against his pillows. “I dare say you’ll be handsome even when you’re old and grey Loras. At least to me.”

“I think the important thing to remember here is that at four years your junior, I will always at least be less old and grey than you.” 

Renly grinned. “I’d love you even if you weren’t.” Gently he rolled Loras over so that he was lying atop him. “I’d probably love you regardless of what you looked like.” He liked to think that even if Loras had not been the most comely in Storm's End, that he'd still have found himself drawn to the boy who'd been his closest companion. It wasn't after all for his looks that they'd become friends in the first place and Renly imagined that he'd still have been delighted with his impetuous squire from Highgarden even if he had been a homely creature. He'd have loved him even so. Whether he'd have _desired_ him as much as he desired him now, though, Renly wasn't sure. He certainly would like to say so and yet he was well aware that neither his vanity nor his fondness for beautiful things knew any limits.

Loras laughed. “Even if I looked like…” He cast around for inspiration. “Like Grand Maester Pycelle? Or Gregor Clegane? No wait like his brother the hound? He’s truly the ugliest.” He paused and then smirked down at him as if he'd found his prize. “Or how about if I dressed like Littlefinger?

Renly laughed, grinning up at him. “No." He said firmly as he tried to picture Loras in the ugly garments lord Baelish favoured. "I couldn’t love you then. Not if you made a conscious choice to dress like Littlefinger. I suppose that if you were poor and if that were the only clothes you could afford, then I _might_ be able cope?"

Loras laughed. “Me? Poor? Well that’s never going to happen.” He paused thoughtfully, his smile widening. “What if I was lacking like Varys? Would you still love me then?”

Renly cringed as he tried to imagine what the eunuch looked like under his silks. He laughed, though and ran his hands through Loras' frizzy curls. “Varys’ affliction might be little of an issue with you." He grinned. "You like it so much the other way round.”

Loras laughed. “But does it work like that? Would one still desire?”

Renly shrugged and grinned, putting his arms tightly round him. “Let’s not find out shall we?”

“Let’s not.” Loras agreed. He peered down at Renly curiously. “Do you reckon Varys knows we’re having this conversation right now?”

Renly glanced around the room, wondering whether there was anywhere for little birds to hide in here. “Probably.” He admitted.

 

……..

Indeed, as Renly had anticipated, Loras was unwilling to risk anyone else seeing him with his hair like that. It was only after Loras had had Renly order a chamber maid up with water that he deigned to move from Renly’s room. He'd dunked his head in the bucket she’d brought, combing out his hair as quickly as possible whilst Renly had watched, rather amazed as it fell instantly back into his usual curls. 

The maester had deemed Loras well enough to leave his bed yesterday, and so making sure he walked very slowly down the stairs, Renly let him head down to the courtyard. He did put his foot down, though, when Loras attempted to bring his sword with him. Renly knew that he wouldn't try anything whilst he was there to keep an eye on him, but he dared say that Loras might attempt a quick match with a fellow knight if he was left unattended. 

Obediently and yet evidently unimpressed, Loras sat himself down at a bench at the edge of the courtyard and watched, wistfully almost, as the knights fought amongst themselves beneath the inner castle walls. The clash of steel rang out loud and Renly could see Loras' fingers slowly creeping towards the empty sword belt at his hips as if by instinct. Fighting really was what he lived for, Renly reckoned, and he supposed that he ought to be flattered that Loras had it in him also to be so gentle with him on occasions. 

Renly didn't join him for the moment, and instead, he wandered over to the other side of the courtyard, where the master at arms stood as he always did, arms folded across his chest and his watchful gaze on the squires that weren't with their masters. Renly could make out his own squire in the group, the tallest amongst them by far. He was sparring with a boy wearing Mistwood colours that Renly didn't recognise and Renly had to sigh as he thought about that a little more. There would have been a time when he'd have been able to name almost every squire in Storm's End and yet now he could only place about half of them. He'd most certainly been away for too long.

Renly approached the master of arms cautiously, doing his best to keep out of the path of any wayward squires who were too enthusiastic with their blades “So,” He asked, laughing as he reached him. “I want the latest opinion.”

“On the boy, my lord?” The master at arms asked gruffly.

“Mmm-hmm.” Renly nodded, leaning back against the wall to watch Alyn with the boy from Mistwood. Renly knew he missed the intricate details and all the same he was sure he looked a lot better than when he'd last seen him with a sword in his hands.

The master at arms studied him for a while too. “He’s improved immensely.” He admitted as Alyn parried a blow from the other boy. “You’ve done well with him.”

Renly laughed. “I shouldn’t give me any of the praise. I’ve had Ser Guyard and Ser Loras occupy themselves with him.”

The master at arms smiled wryly. “Well they’ve done well. I admit I didn’t think it was possible.” He glanced over at Loras. “That's Loras over there is it not? I thought he'd been confined to bed. Took a fall at Bronzegate was it?"

Renly sighed, shaking his head with a laugh. "No, it was the melee. And yes, he was, but the maester has given him leave to come out here today if he sits quietly." 

The master at arms chuckled. "Of course it was the melee. I'll be damned when I see that boy take a bad fall in any joust." He shook his head. "He's certainly looking sour today."

Renly laughed and looked over at him too. Loras' own squire had spotted him now and was attempting to show him something new that he'd just been taught. From what it looked like, however, Loras' criticism was even more scathing that usual and Tommas was sent scampering back across the courtyard to perfect his techniques.

“I believe that he doesn’t want to rest.” He told the master at arms. 

The master at arms shrugged. “It’s hard, my lord. He wants to be the best and that takes practice."

Renly couldn't deny that and he merely thanked the master at arms for his opinion before he wandered back over to Loras. Loras raised his head as he saw Renly approaching and he even gave him a faint smile as he sat down, and yet still Renly could see the longing in his eyes as he watched everyone else with swords in their hands. 

“The master at arms was complimenting me on what fine work you and Ser Guyard have done with Alyn.” Renly told him.

Loras snorted. “Leave Ser Guyard out of your praise.”

Renly smiled. He had no doubt that Ser Guyard would disagree but he kept quiet. “Fine," He said. "You’ve done an admirable job and I am grateful.”

Loras shrugged, wincing a little, and turned to watch the boy in question. Alyn was still fighting with the squire from Mistwood and whilst he looked still a little ungainly on his long gangly legs, he did actually appear to have the upper hand. 

Renly sighed as he watched him. “You know Loras, I expected Alyn to mention the fact that my guard kindly informed that I’m fucking his predecessor, and yet he's been as silent as a lamb on the matter.” He shook his head as he ran his hands through his hair wearily. "I think someone must have told him not to mention it to me. Probably Ser Guyard." 

Loras frowned. “About that. That would have been me.”

“You?” Renly turned to him, a little surprised. “Why would you do that?”

Loras shrugged, before he seemingly regretted it, scrunching up his eyes in pain. “You don’t like talking about it. You find it humiliating.”

There was no accusation in his voice and yet Renly had to wince. He wished to deny Loras' words but he knew he couldn't. Loras would know anything he said to the contrary as a lie. Renly knew all too well that he'd have been more than a little embarrassed had his squire brought up the topic with him. He'd have answered any questions he had but he would have done it reluctantly at best, probably wishing the ground would open up and swallow him as he did so.

“What did you tell him?” He asked Loras. 

“It wasn’t a long conversation. I just told him that he shouldn’t flatter himself in thinking that you’d have any interest in touching you too, and that he’d do better not to mention it to you.”

“And what did he say back?”

Loras shrugged. “He’s a sensible boy. He said alright and then we did some work on his poor excuse for footwork.”

Renly just laughed. He wished indeed that he shared Loras' ability to not see what they did as out of the ordinary. He supposed, though, that he might eventually learn with time. After all, for all that it felt like forever, it hadn't even been two full years since he'd started sleeping with Loras. He had hope that he would learn to put aside his shame as the years went by.  Perhaps, one day even, he'd learn to bear Penrose' jests with good grace; he wouldn't have to merely pretend to be able to laugh it off.

Loras' eyes were once more on the knights when Renly turned back to him, and Renly just had to laugh. "Why the impatience?" He asked. "There shall be plenty of time once you are recovered to pick your sword back up again."  
  
Loras just rolled his eyes. "It's Margaery's name day in a few moons." He said bluntly as if this explained everything.

Renly sighed. "As lovely as your sister is, what does that have to do with you wanting to get back in the training yard?" Sometimes he wished that he understood Loras as well as Loras seemed to understand him. 

"My father is holding a tourney for her."

Renly frowned. “You don’t mean to compete?” He knew that maester Jurne had told him that he’d be up and about as usual within a couple of months, but Renly didn’t think he'd been advocating Loras charging opponents down with lances. "Surely not?"

“Why on earth not?” Loras asked vehemently.

“Because you’re injured Loras.”

“But I shall be better by then.”

Renly just sighed. He knew better than to argue with Loras, and as much as he was trying to pretend otherwise right now, he wasn't Loras' lord, not anymore. Loras was free to ignore him as he chose and in this instance Renly knew that that was exactly what Loras would do. 


	84. Chapter 84

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the two week break! I left my laptop with all my writing on in France and went home for Christmas. Probably should have warned you guys. Sorry about that!! Also, will reply to all your lovely comments in the morning- need to sleep!!

The air was fresh and the sun warm on their faces as Renly helped a very unwilling Loras dismount from his horse. Loras had insisted throughout the short journey here that he was fine but Renly had seen through his words. The way Loras had tensed with every bump of the road had not escaped Renly and it had been evident that the ride had evidently caused him more than a little bit of discomfort. The maester had warned Loras this very morning that it would be so, but to nobody's surprise and least of all to Renly's, Loras had refused to listen. He'd been adamant that he wanted to get out of the castle before their return to King's Landing in a few days and so Renly had ignored the maester's advice too and brought him here, wondering all the way how on earth he was going to get Loras back to the capital if the two or three miles today was too much for him.

The clearing was as Renly remembered it and Renly tied the two horses to one of oak tree's lower branches where they would be in the shade. 

The sun indeed was hot today but Loras seemed happy to sit in it regardless, tossing his cloak aside and sitting down on the grass. Renly joined him once he'd finished with the horses, sitting behind him and letting Loras lean back against his chest and tilt his face up towards the sunlight. Smiling, Renly rested his head on Loras' shoulder. He didn't have the most comfortable shoulder to lean against but Renly imagined that this was one of his very few flaws. He didn't think he'd have exchanged him for the world.  

It was good to get out of the castle, to be here again with Loras and do nothing but sit. He imagined, though, that they would have made a right sight for any onlookers, sitting in their fineries on the dewy grass and entwined like a man and a woman might be. It occured to Renly vaguely then that he might be getting grass stains on his velvet breeches and he almost shifted Loras so that he could check before he decided that he didn't care. He imagined that he could stain his entire wardrobe and it wouldn't really be a problem. He'd rather buy a whole new set of clothes rather than move Loras from where he was comfortable over the worry of a little grass. 

Loras did indeed seem comfortable leaning against him and after a few moments of sitting quietly, he tipped his head back against Renly's shoulder, looking up at the sky. "You know what Renly," He sighed softly. "When I was young, Willas always used to tell me that you can see shapes in the clouds." He laughed and turned his head, pressing a kiss to Renly's neck. "It seems like the sort of thing you would do."

Renly laughed. "Finding shapes in the clouds? That does sound like the sort of thing I would do." He glanced up too. The sky was very blue, but as the Stormlands' skies always were even when the weather was good, clouds were beginning to roll in from the east. It was easy enough to imagine that the white shapes took on forms and Renly smiled to himself as he managed to find shapes in several of them.

"There's a dragon there." He grinned. "And that there could be a rabbit. Look it's got two long bits that look like ears." He guided Loras' head in the right direction and pointed it out for him.

It took Loras a good couple of moments to even spot what Renly was pointing at, and when he did, he didn't seem overly impressed. "That doesn't look anything like a rabbit to me." Loras scoffed.

"Well what does it look like to you then?" Renly asked, putting his arms around him. He wasn't surprised in the slightest that Loras claimed not to see what he did. 

Loras paused, evidently thinking, biting down on his lower lip like he so often did. "Clouds, I guess." He said after a while.

Renly sighed. "Clouds, you guess?" He turned his head sideways to kiss Loras' hair. "You never cease to amaze me."

"Do I not?" Loras smirked and moved out of his embrace, stretching out on the grass. 

"No Loras, you don't." Renly grinned. "I dread to think how bored I would have been had I not been sent you." He really did as well. He'd spent his entire childhood longing for another child to play with, and finally, just as he himself was becoming too old for childish games, he'd been sent one. Suddenly he'd had someone else to share things with, to show things to, and to play with. He'd been fourteen, a young man full grown really, but all the same he'd chased Loras all over Storm's End, climbing trees with him, doing all the things that he'd always wanted to. If anything, he’d been the one more up for it too, despite the fact that he should have long outgrown his desire for such things. He remembered indeed having been quite bemused by the ten year old who had often seemed more interested in his sword practice than in many of the games Renly had tried to play with him. 

"Why do you think you should have been bored?" Loras asked after a while, bringing Renly out of his thoughts. "Do you not think you'd have taken a lover even had you not met me?"

Renly rolled his eyes. "I wasn't talking about that sort of bored Loras."

"Fair enough," Tugging on his hand, he pulled Renly down beside him. "But genuinely, would you have done Renly?"

Renly laughed and stretched out too, thinking about the question. He supposed he would indeed have started to want someone to relieve his need with eventually, even had Loras not been in the picture. That need, that desire seemed to exist in all men and Renly supposed he was no different. "I guess I would have found another lover eventually." He told Loras. "Or at least I'd have tried to. How would you go about finding someone though? It's not like you could just choose someone and go about courting him as you would a maiden." He supposed he ought to feel lucky that things had eventually just fallen into place with Loras. He had never needed to set himself to the task of seeking out a lover. 

"I don't know how you'd go about it." Loras admitted staring still up at the sky. "I guess you'd have to try and guess who might be interested."

Renly sighed. "It's not that easy, though. It was hard enough with you, and I knew you better than I know anyone. It's just so hard to distinguish between that innocent affection that can occur between men and the sort of affection that you and I seek from each other." Indeed, Renly thought, he imagined that by and large, when people looked upon him and Loras, standing together perhaps at court or on a tourney ground, they saw the same sort of comradery that might exist between his brother and Ned Stark for instance.

"It's not so hard." Loras laughed. "I could tell that you looked at me differently than say, my brothers."

Renly laughed and took his hand, shifting a little closer so that their shoulders were touching. "All the same Loras, I think I'd have been very lonely without you." He grinned up at the sky, squeezing Loras' hand. "And any lover I'd have taken wouldn't have been like you. It would have been nothing more than some boy coming up some back staircase so that we could take our pleasure together before he left." He turned his head towards Loras. "But what about you Loras? If we'd never met would you have taken another lover?"

Loras looked deep in thought and he raised his hand to shield his eyes slightly from the dazzling sunlight. "I guess so." He admitted. "I shouldn't want to not know pleasure my entire life."  
  
"But would it be one like me or more of a practical lover, just for the pleasure?"

Loras frowned. "That's what I thought you were."

Renly rolled his eyes and nudged him hard. "Be serious." He laughed.

Loras smiled widely. "Fine." He sighed as if in defeat. "I don't really know what kind of lover I'd have sought out had I not been sent to squire for you. Willas always told me that he doesn't believe that there's only one person out there for everyone, that a man could find love with many and that it's only coincidence which one he finds first."  
  
"And do you agree?" Renly asked. He tried to picture himself with anyone but Loras and found he simply couldn't.

"No." Loras said slowly. "I don't. Everything just seems so right with you, like it was meant to be."  
  
Renly smiled. "So Willas doesn't believe in fate then?"  
  
Loras laughed. "No, he doesn't. He believes in reason and logic. He thinks that everything has a cause even if we can't see it and that fate is something we make up to justify things we can't explain. Like the gods I guess."  
  
"Your Willas sounds like a very wise man, but I too like to think he's wrong on that count." Renly said. "I like to think you were meant to be sent here to me." He supposed he had to think that really, for some of the alternatives were much harder to bear. Their love being nought but coincidence was a banal idea but he could stomach, and yet darker thoughts lingered in his mind over this matter. More than once he had wondered to himself whether Loras' affection for him had only come about because of Renly's own affection for Loras, whether if purely by giving Loras an example to follow, he had somehow moulded Loras into what he wanted Loras to be. Everything had a cause, Willas said, and Renly wondered if Willas would think he was the cause of Loras' unnatural interest in men.   
  
The thought bothered him and a little worried, he tried to voice it out loud. "Loras," He said, squeezing his hand again. "You said you thought it was fate that we found each other, but what if it's not, and what if it's not coincidence either, what if it's because of my influence that you're... well... like you are? That maybe I tainted you and made you like you are just by being around you?"

Loras sat up and frowned at him. "I'd never thought about it like that." He admitted. "But I shouldn't think it works like that Renly. If that's how it works then you would have made you the way you were?"

"Well maybe I was just always like that." Renly mused, being to think of nobody who would have been able to influence him like that.  
  
Loras smirked. "So then maybe I was always like that too." Helaughed. "And is it of any consequence even if was because of you? I'm happy. You're happy. What does it matter?"

Renly sighed and rolling over onto his side, rested his head on Loras' shoulder. "I'm glad you're happy Loras, and that you don't think I made you turn out like this."  
  
Loras wrapped an arm around him. "Look, I love you Renly, and I don't particularly care why it came about, I'm just glad it did."

Renly just smiled against the fabric of Loras' shirt. "I'm glad it did too." Loras' hands were very gentle in his hair and Renly imagined that he could just lie there for hours and be quite content. With the sunshine warm on his face and Loras just as warm next to him, he didn't imagine there was anything more anyone anyone could give him that could possibly want right now. 

"I suppose, though, talking of what sort of thing I'd want if I'd never met you-" Loras said contemplatively after a while, fingers still rifling through Renly's hair absent-mindedly. "-that if I took a lover, I'd want to play your part rather than my usual one if we went to bed."

"Really?" Renly lifted his head. That surprised him. Loras seemed to get more pleasure from their usual way round. "But why?"

Loras smirked and pushed Renly's head back down onto his shoulder. "Renly, no stranger would ever get to bed me." He laughed. "When we go to bed together, I have to trust that you won't hurt me."

Renly grinned, curling up slightly to fit better into Loras' side and wrapping an arm round his waist. "So you trust me do you?"

"Evidently." Loras said dryly. He stretched out, arching his back slightly. "Of course I do, you fool. You've never hurt me."

"That's not true." Renly pointed out, wishing it were true.

"Never intentionally then." Loras grinned. "And it's always my fault if you do hurt me. Usually you're as gentle as a lamb. You're perfect Renly."

That, coming from Loras, was very suspicious. Renly sat up and cocked his head. 

"What do you want?" He asked slowly, eyeing Loras up and down. He looked deceptively innocent, lying calmly in the sunshine and smiling at him.

"I don't want much at all." Loras said nonchalantly, sitting up too. "Just you."

"Me?" Renly raised an eyebrow as he caught on. "Don't even think about it Loras. You're still supposed to be resting."

"But I barely even ache now, and you're so gentle." Loras scowled. "And I'm sick and tired of being treated like I'm ill."

Renly laughed and stretched out back beside him in the sun. "It can wait Loras. Just a little while longer until the maester assures me you're as right as rain again."

Loras just raised an eyebrow. He was not impressed. 

 

 

.................

 

"Please?" Loras asked from Renly's bed. It was the third time he'd asked that this evening now but the first time that he'd deigned to say please. Renly was mildly surprised. He guessed that Loras must really be getting desperate. He was never usually so polite.

"I've told you, no." He laughed, just picking up his quill and going back over the arrangements for their return to King's Landing. Loras insisted he was well enough to make the journey and so Renly was trusting him on that. All the same, he and Penrose had thought very carefully about the route Renly and his party would take and how often they planned to stop.

"Why not?" Loras' curt tone made Renly look up again.

"Because I shall hurt you." Renly repeated as if by rote. They'd been through this more than a couple of times now.

Loras just stretched out on the bed, arching his back deliciously even though it must have made him ache. "Do you not want me?" He purred.

It was all too inviting and Renly had to look away. "You know I do." He told him.

"No I don't." Loras retorted, rolling over onto his front to glare at him, one rogue curl flopping over his eyes. "You've refused me three times tonight." He looked away, his face falling artfully. "I'm beginning to think that you don't care at all for me."

It was all lies and Renly could see those falsehoods painted clearly on Loras' face. All the same Renly felt a pang of guilt at Loras' words. Even the idea of Loras feeling unwanted upset him and he made the mistake of glancing over at him, lying alone on Renly's bed. He looked so crestfallen, so abandoned that even though Renly knew that this was a plan which had been carefully thought out and orchestrated by Loras, he couldn't help but feel his heart break in two.

"Fine." He sighed, putting down his quill and knowing he was throwing all logic to the wind here. "But you’re not blaming me if I have to take you to maester Jurne after this. It’ll be you explaining that you hurt yourself in the throes of passion, and my name shall not come into it.”

"Deal." Loras laughed and he rolled over onto his back, staring up at the ceiling and lazily waiting for Renly to join him. As much as Loras claimed he hadn't enjoyed being treated as if he were ill, Renly reckoned he'd got used to it all the same. Loras would never admit it but Renly suspected he secretly enjoyed being fussed over and having people fetch and carry for him. The female servants had been particularly helpful, Renly had found, irritatingly so. At meals they doted on him, offering him the choicest morsels of the serving platters and cooing over how brave he'd been to stand up to the Mountain in the melee at Bronzegate. Loras, it was clear to see, adored the attention, he coveted it even. And now, he was clearly expecting Renly to dote on him too.

"Come on then." Renly laughed, standing up and crossing the room to join him. "I shall be more gentle than you could believe me capable of."

"Don't flatter yourself Renly. I'm sure I shall believe it."

Renly just grinned at him. It was an age old argument of theirs- that if Renly had his way, he would treat Loras as if he were made of glass. 

"Are you not even going to kiss me?" Loras complained as Renly leant down to unbutton his shirt, runnning his thumb over Loras' collarbone as he fiddled with the buttons.

Renly smiled. "Patience, Loras." He wanted to get Loras out of his clothes gently and that wouldn't happen once he let himself get worked up. 

"How romantic you are this evening." Loras remarked dryly when Renly continued to diligently remove the rest of his clothing. "So passionate, so charming. I've never felt as desired as I do right now."

"Just be quiet and hold still." Renly grinned down at him as he pulled Loras' breeches and small clothes off. Quite honestly, he had to agree with Loras. There was nothing romantic nor passionate about what he'd just done, but even so, he thought he was the one whose priorities were in the right order out of the two of them. He didn't think it worth risking hurting Loras just for the sake of getting to tear his clothes off in a whirlwind of desire. They would have all the opportunity in the world to do that once Loras was recovered.

Loras had remained on his back and so Renly lowered himself very gently down onto him once he was done and Loras had stopped complaining. He realised only then quite how long it had been since he'd kissed Loras properly. He liked to think himself affectionate with Loras even when they weren't in bed together, and he reckoned that he was, but even so, it had been weeks since he'd done anything more than kiss Loras' hair or hold him tightly. He kissed him properly now, though, tilting Loras' face towards his and not parting from him until they were both a little breathless.

"Does it hurt to have my weight on you like this?" Renly asked between kisses, pushing his hips up against Loras' as much as he dared as he felt Loras grow hard against his thigh. 

"No." Loras gasped, and he kissed Renly again, wrapping an arm tightly around Renly's shoulders and cupping Renly's face with his other hand. 

Regardless, Renly rolled them both over so that it was him taking Loras weight. He never knew when to take Loras at his word when it came to things like this. Loras seemed to loathe admitting any kind of weakness, irrespective of how small it was. Renly supposed thus that he better be safe rather than sorry; he was quite aware that Loras was still more sore than he was letting on. Loras was taking care of Renly's clothes rather quickly but he wasn't quite able to hide the fact that he wasn't as at ease as he wanted Renly to believe he was. He evidently still had a little trouble drawing breath without pain and the wound-up state he was in now was certainly not helping. His breathing was heavy and it seemed to make him wince every now and again. It didn't surprise Renly in the slightest. His own chest felt a little like it was about to burst and he couldn't imagine how it must have felt for Loras with four ribs that had barely just healed.

"Shh." Renly hushed, when he saw Loras wince again, taking Loras' face in his hands and rubbing circles over his cheeks. "Let us slow things down a little shall we?"

"If we must." Loras narrowed his eyes slightly at him, looking more than a little disgruntled. He was evidently disappointed that Renly had picked up on the fact that he was in discomfort. 

"Just a little bit." Renly laughed and gently he rolled Loras over onto his front, running his hands up and down his spine in slow rhythmic motions. He did that until Loras seemed to have calmed a little, his pulse slowing under Renly's palms and his breathing less erratic. Loras would never admit it but Renly thought he seemed better for it, relaxing significantly with every passing moment until it didn't seem to hurt him to breathe anymore. He was still impatient, though, and so Renly did as he was bid, moving to retrieve the small vial of oil from where they had hidden it inside one of his drawers the last time they'd been in Storm's End. It was a little dusty and it took Renly a good couple of tries to get the stopper out.

He readied him slowly with his fingers, warming the oil in his palms first and then watching Loras' face intently to see if this was causing him any pain. He knew Loras would be furious but regardless of this, Renly was more than prepared to stop if it appeared to be hurting Loras. It would mean that he'd have to face his wrath for a few hours, but Renly reckoned he'd be able to handle that. What was more difficult was keeping himself and his own desire under control. He hadn't really been aware of it before, but now he was realising just quite how pent up he'd been, how much he needed what Loras was asking for right now. And whilst Loras refused to admit that he needed Renly to be gentle with him tonight, Renly knew that all too well. It had been a good three and a half weeks since Loras' injury but he was still undeniably fragile.

Gently he slipped a pillow underneath Loras' hips, trying not to let himself imagine too much what was going to come next. He'd had over a month of being more celibate than a knight of the Kingsguard and just the thought of bedding Loras tonight was enough to set his pulse racing wildly. He was almost tempted to forget all thoughts of being gentle with him and to just throw caution to the wind. It would be all too easy to just fuck Loras as hard as he liked until his need was sated, far too easy in fact. Loras wouldn't even berate him for it, Renly imagined, even when it did make him sore. All the same, Renly forced himself to push the idea out of his mind. That was something alike to what Robert would do, and Renly supposed that that was where the real difference between him and his eldest brother lay- that he could show restraint where Robert simply could not, that he was no slave to his desire. 

Loras had shut his eyes now, and even so he managed to look impatient. "Come on will you?" He sighed. "I'm sick of waiting."

Renly laughed and settling himself between Loras' legs, pushed into him as gently as he could, being as slow as he could. It was infuriating and beyond frustrating, but he forced himself not to let how much he wanted this carry him away. It was good he did so too, he reckoned. Watching Loras' face now told him all he needed to know. It wasn't exactly pained but he looked to be in rather a little bit of discomfort. Renly guessed it was probably rather hard to relax properly when you were as sore as Loras must be.

He forced himself to pause once he was inside him, propping himself up on his elbows and letting Loras get used to the sensation. "Are you alright?" He asked.

Loras nodded slowly. "I'm fine." He whispered. "I just need to relax a little more is all. Give me a few moments."

Renly nodded and laid his head on Loras' chest. He was surprised actually that Loras was admitting he needed a little time to adjust but was pleased with him all the same despite a growing impatience of his own that he would never voice. There would have been a time when Loras would have suffered through all sorts of discomfort for the sake of his pride. All the same, despite being more than a little proud of him, it was still more than a little bit difficult to give him the time he needed. Taking deep breaths, Renly tried not to let himself focus on the tight heat that surrounded his cock. Instead he closed his eyes and thought of other things. He wasn't quite desperate enough to have to picture Selyse's moustache yet but he felt a little reassured just knowing that it existed for him to think about if he really did have need of it.

"You sure you're alright like this?" He asked, lifting his head slightly. "I can kneel up and put your legs up over my shoulders if you like, so I'm not leaning on your chest?"

"I'm fine here." Loras breathed back. "I always imagine I look a bit silly like that."

That made Renly laugh despite the fact that he was inside Loras and it felt a little wrong to do so. "It's lovely to know you're thinking about that sort of thing when we're in bed together." He commented, propping himself back up with his elbows.

"Exactly." Loras agreed. "It ruins the moment."

"Like us talking now?" Renly asked, not able to stop himself.

"Exactly like this." Loras grinned. "Me pondering how ridiculous I look just spoils everything and so it's better off that we just avoid it like that."

Renly laughed and allowed himself to shift a little, closing his eyes as the pleasure washed over him. It took him a good couple of moments to compose himself after that. "But why is it particularly there that bothers you?" He couldn't help but ask. "We put you in all sorts of undignified positions when we fuck. What have my shoulders done to make you feel like you look silly?"

"I think it's because I can see my feet like that." Loras told him. "It just seems wrong and I can do nothing but stare at them."

Renly raised an eyebrow. "Couldn't you, I don't know, gaze at my face instead?" Renly laughed. "Just an idea?"

"I suppose I could." Loras admitted. "But the sight of my feet resting on your shoulders just seems so wrong that I can't help but stare. I know it's silly of me, but I just can't help it."

Renly laughed. "“You don't look silly to me, but then again I guess you might to anyone but me.”

Loras laughed too and Renly tried not to shut his eyes when that made Loras tighten around him.

"What do you reckon we'd look like to anyone standing watching us?" Loras asked contemplatively. He evidently hadn't missed the way Renly was struggling a little here and slowly, he began to rock his hips, giving Renly that little bit of friction he needed. 

Renly grinned, joining Loras in moving ever so slightly. "Let's find out." With Loras' help, he shifted them over to the end of the bed, the two of them moving awkwardly as one until they were able to see themselves in the looking glass that stood a few feet away from the foot of Renly's bed. He let himself move a little more then, pushing up into him properly as he listened for the familiar sounds that Loras would make, sounds that let him know he was doing what Loras wanted him to. They always started quietly at first, with small whimpers and tiny little yelps until Renly would be sorely tempted to muffle him with a pillow so that the entire realm wouldn't know what he was doing to him.

Once he'd found a rhythm, Renly risked looking up from Loras' face to glance at their reflection in the looking glance. He was surprised when it startled him, and he wondered quite how an act that was now so familiar to him could look so very strange to him when watching it from an outside perspective. He frowned as he stared a little more, gazing into the mirror. 

He was being so gentle with Loras and yet still the reflection showed two men rutting against each other, one of their cocks buried deep inside the other. It looked more like the pictures in the erotic book he owned than he had ever imagined he and Loras together could look. The sight aroused him as much as anything, but all the same, Renly found himself wondering what others would say upon seeing what was reflected in the mirror, imagining how they'd recoil with disgust. Biting down on his lip, he adjusted his angle so that he could see a little better, looking down at how Loras was stretched around his cock before looking back again at the reflection of it. Somehow it looked more perverse in the mirror.

Loras was looking too, and Renly wondered if he saw the same. 

“It’s obscene isn’t it?" He whispered as Loras continued to stare.

“Obscene?” Hurt flickered across Loras’ face. “Why would you say that?” He looked again, seemingly harder this time and Renly regretted his words almost immediately.

“What do you see then? If not that?” He asked softly.

Loras stared into the glass. “I see you, and me. Together, Renly. That's all." He clutched at Renly's hands, interlacing their fingers.

Renly looked again, and this time, with Loras' hands holding tightly onto his own, he managed to see what Loras saw. 


	85. Chapter 85

The ride was long to King’s Landing and the effort of it all lay heavy on Loras, that much was plain to Renly. He watched him as much as he could when they were on the road, and often the pace of their travel would be dictated by how well Loras appeared to him- whether there was any colour in his cheeks or if his face was pale with the pain of his horse moving underneath him. Loras never complained though, and not once was it him who suggested they stop for rest. Instead, he sat tall in the saddle, his posture a little awkward, but giving away no other hint as to his discomfort. Renly imagined too that it was only he himself who could see anything at all the matter with Loras Tyrell even-that nobody else would have even glanced twice at him with the thought that he might be struggling. Loras' own squire even seemed fooled by the mask Loras that wore so well.

They stopped often, resting at twice as many inns as Renly would usually. Today was no exception and Renly watched Loras carefully as he dismounted outside the inn and handed his horse carelessly to his squire. He could be in no real pain now, Renly supposed, and indeed the maester had given him leave, if rather reluctantly, to make the journey to King's Landing. It was just a dull ache that Loras was most likely bearing now, one that sharpened with any sudden jolts in the road. It was certainly nothing serious but Renly worried for him all the same.

"Are you well Loras?" Renly asked once they'd been fed and were able to retire to the room that Renly had been given for the night, a rather dark and dingy room that had cobwebs in the corners.

Loras just glared at him for his trouble. "I'm perfectly well. Now stop asking." All the same he flopped down onto the bed rather wearily, not even having bothered to remove his boots.

Renly laughed and walked over to the bed to join him. For once it was a bed big enough for two, unusual in inns, and Renly wondered how many tavern wenches had been brought up here after a long evening of ale. The lace bedspread did indeed look a little threadbare and Renly imagined that this was probably indeed due to the wear of whores' knees against it. Loras wasn't doing it any favours now either with his boots and Renly pulled them off one by one, brushing the dried mud from the bed before stooping to kiss him.

"Don't lie." He said against Loras' mouth. "You like me doting on you, tending to you." He grinned as Loras just swatted his affections away like he might a fly. "Don't you like being cosseted Loras? Having gentle hands hold you and protect you?"

"Protect me?" Loras just raised an eyebrow and scoffed audibly. "From how it appears to me, it's you who likes it." He smirked up at Renly and stretched out carelessly. "Does it make you feel more of a man Renly? Having me all weak and kitten-like in your arms?"

Renly's grin widened. "Probably." He admitted, reaching down to play with one of Loras' curls. Loras' words were indeed quite possibly true. He didn't at all enjoy seeing Loras in pain but he did very much enjoy the knowledge that Loras depended on him when he was injured. It was certainly nice to feel needed.

"I thought so." Loras laughed and a little viciously, he reached up and yanked an unsuspecting Renly down onto the bed next to him. He'd rolled him over on to his front before Renly could even begin to protest, sitting astride him and twisting one of Renly's arms painfully behind his back. Although Renly couldn't see, his only view currently being the greying bedspread, he could just imagine how Loras would be smirking.

"Let me up will you?" He laughed, his voice muffling into the sheets.

"I don't think so." Loras hissed. "In fact-" He pulled down Renly's breeches with a sharp one-handed movement, and Renly thought he heard the laces tear a little underneath him. "-In fact, I think I'm done with being tended to entirely." He laughed and pressed a kiss to the back of Renly's neck even as he trailed his hand down the exposed part of his back and along the backs of his thighs. Renly was just beginning to relax with the softness of it all despite the warning in Loras' tone when all of a sudden Loras pushed a finger deep inside him, making Renly squirm a little in surprise.

"What's that for?" Renly yelped even though it felt all too good.

Loras didn't answer.

"Are you asking to fuck me?" Renly laughed into the bed as Loras' fingers continued exploring him.

"I'm not asking." Loras replied. "I'm taking."

"Take away." Renly grinned. "But please, can you release my arm first?"

Loras didn't reply this time either, except to let go of Renly's arm and stop pressing his face into the pillow. Stretching them out a little first, Renly folded his arms and leant his head against them, lying still for Loras. Despite Loras' harsh-sounding words, he was actually being rather gentle and Renly sighed a little as he was worked open by Loras' fingers. They were lovely fingers, skillful and practised, and every now and again when Loras was feeling particularly generous, those fingers would crook inside of him to hit a spot which didn't make Renly cry out like Loras would but that still made him draw breath rather sharply in pleasure.

"Now Renly," Loras leant down to whisper his words right into Renly's ear. "If I fuck you harder than you deserve, will you finally stop treating me like a half drowned kitten?"

Renly just nodded a little helplessly and arched his back so that Loras might find the kindness to curl his fingers once more.

……

King's Landing was as it usually was and Renly did his best to stop treating Loras like he was made of glass. It was somehow easier in King's Landing than it had been in Storm's End and Renly imagined that it was due to the fact that there, Loras would always seem a little more like his squire. Loras had mistakenly believed himself Renly's squire still when he'd been confused with milk of the poppy and somehow it still did seem like that was the case. it was all they'd ever really known inside the walls of that castle Renly called home.

He did well with his treatment of Loras, biting back any incredulity at Loras spending all day training with lance and sword. He did well for a whole week, until, Robert making good on his promise to take Renly hunting for his name day, Loras casually mentioned to him the night before what he was planning to wear for it.

“You shall come Loras?” Renly asked, for once not really listening to Loras' descriptions of the fur-lined cloak he'd had made especially for the occasion. Instead he was thinking of the ditches they would most like have to cross, the quick turns and jumps that their quarry would make as they set to the chase, quick turns and jumps that would exacerbate any remaining pain in Loras' chest.

“Of course I shall.” Loras laughed, eyes narrowing slightly as if he guessed why Renly was asking. “I’ve never been on a hunt, and I should not miss this for the world.”

Renly swallowed his protests as he'd been told to. "Of course you shan't miss it." He smiled. He didn't know why he was worrying to be honest. Loras had been out in the training yard each and every day without any harm befalling him. And if he could withstand opponents coming at him with a wooden stick, Renly supposed there was no reason at all why Loras might not ride tomorrow.

“Have you ever been on a hunt?” Loras asked. "My father always forbade me. He said I was too young."

“Many many times when I was a boy.” Renly told him. “I had no parents to forbid me and Robert didn't care for telling me what I could or couldn't do. I never rode at the front, though. I used to be at the back, on my little white pony with one of the Kingsguard making sure I didn’t get lost or trampled on.” Often, he had struggled to keep up, Renly remembered. No matter how hard his poor little pony had galloped, almost always, he had rejoined the group to find the beast already killed and slung over the back of Robert's horse.

Loras laughed. “I suppose you shall be at the front tomorrow though. Who shall join you?”

“Robert I guess, and his companions. Probably Thoros of Myr and a couple of his kingsguard. Maybe Joffrey even, he’s of an age where he should be at the back, but we both know Cersei should never see her son hidden away so." He laughed. "And he’s like to be interested in watching his father tear some poor wild animal apart."

Loras raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you’re sentimental about that sort of thing?”

"No." Renly laughed. "But I have no real interest in jabbing some worn out creature with a stick. It's the ride that's unmissable. The exhilaration of it all. You'll understand on the morrow."

Loras shrugged and nodded, and Renly really wasn't so certain of his words. He imagined that Loras would probably enjoy putting a spear in some animal's flesh just as much as he would enjoy the ride. Quite possibly, he'd enjoy it more.

..........

The entire court except Stannis seemed to empty for Renly’s name day hunt and Renly was glad he'd chosen to wear his finest fabrics. All eyes were on him and that was how Renly preferred it to be. He could see envy in many of the men's eyes at just how handsome he looked, with his velvet surcoat and his cloak trimmed with sable.

Renly walked past all the men gathered, though, and made his way to Robert's own private courtyard. Robert was already there, on time for once, and was surrounded by his white cloaks. Six of them were present, each and every one except Jaime Lannister.

Robert was already in his cups and he stumbled to his horse. He'd been given a new squire too, it seemed, also a Lannister just like the last three and Renly just had to wonder whether Casterly Rock would ever run out of Lannisters to send him. This one looked to be about Loras' age and he was rather handsome in his way, tall and lithe and resembling the Kingslayer a little.

"Your grace." The new squire stammered as Robert went to mount his horse the wrong way round. "The horse."

"What about the damned horse boy?"

"Your grace, it's the wrong way." He looked a little nervous and he looked around to see if anybody would concur that indeed Robert was reaching for the reins where the horse's rump was. Nobody did.

"Do you think I don't know how to mount a horse boy?"

The Lannister boy quietened and Robert put a foot in the stirrups and hauled himself up onto the horse, backwards wobbling a little. "The saddle." He grunted. "You've put it on wrong boy. Bloody Lannisters, don't even know how to tack up a horse."

Renly could have stood and watched him all day but Barristan Selmy intervened. "Your grace." He said hurriedly. "If you cared to dismount, I'll fix it."

"You bloody well shall Selmy." Robert stumbled back onto the ground with a thump and quickly Ser Barristan turned the horse round and made to look like he was fiddling with something on the saddle. Renly tried not to exchange looks with any of the kingsguard as he did so. He had to admire their demeanour really. None amongst them laughed and Renly didn't know how they managed to keep straight faces all day when faced with the laughing stock of a king they guarded. None of them were had any decent sense of wit about them though, save the Kingslayer, and Renly reckoned that if he were ever to be king, he'd try his best to get rid of the lot of them and find replacements, a hard job seeing as the Kingsguard served for life.

Robert mounted once more. "That's how you do it boy." He said, shaking his fist as the quivering Lannister. "Now hand me the wine."

This, the boy managed, standing on his tip toes to hand Robert the wineskin. It really was a huge horse, Renly thought, which was a terribly good thing indeed. Otherwise it would have been squashed under Robert's weight. As it was, though, the stallion didn't seem to even notice Robert's weight and once Renly too had mounted, it led the way out of the courtyard to join the hunting group.

A huntsman and a hound had been sent that morning to locate their quarry and he had returned victorious. He'd found a hart in the Kingswood and Robert had evidently thought it worth hunting from the description he'd been given. Usually a stag was only considered worth hunting if it had ten points on its antlers, Renly knew. They called such a beast a _hart of ten_ and the huntsman had assured Robert that today he'd found such a creature to grace his table. It was a sign, he'd said to Robert, a sign from the gods to mark your brother's name day.

It was surely a majestic beast, and now they were to track it.

The huntsman led the way, riding ahead of the group. He would follow the tracks as only an expert huntsman could and once he had found it, he would then drive the beast back towards them where they would give chase.

They did not have to go far before the huntsman blew his horn in the forest ahead of them, the sign that he'd begun his shepherding of the animal. Their breath baited, they waited amongst the trees. The aim was to be quiet, so as to surprise the creature, but rarely did it turn out like that. The dogs and horses were restless, tension tight in their legs as they waited. The men were too and behind him, Renly could see many of them jostling agitatedly for a space near the front. Their was a distinct hierarchy for royal hunts and yet still the men fought for position. Unfailingly, Robert would lead the way with the kingsguard and any companions he had brought with him. Next would be the lords of good standing and their sons. Loras was in this group and Renly could just about see the top of his curly head. He didn't appear either agitated or tense, instead sitting very still upon his mount as they were supposed to. He seemed to be surrounded by Lannisters and yet Renly caught sight of a few other lords too. Lord Rosby was sat to Loras' left on a strong sorrel mare which seemed a little skittish whilst Beric Dondarrion too was visible. Then behind them were the knights of lesser houses, and then finally, at the back, were all the boys, many of them squires. This was where a rider was put if he was poor on a horse- no risk of anyone disrupting the hunt would be taken.

They did not have to wait long. Soon they saw movement in the forest and then a white hart darted out from between the trees, swerving when it saw them. It truly was a majestic beast and Renly tried to count the points on its antlers. He only managed to count six before a large roar rang out from Robert, and at his command they gave chase.

It truly was exhilarating. Through trees and over ditches they went, jumping logs and ducking under branches as they followed the hart through the forest, it's white tail bobbing in front through the leaves. The sound of the horse's hooves was deafening and Renly could feel his heart beating in his chest as Robert led them over a shallow stream, still roaring atop his stallion.

The ground levelled out over that and glancing behind him, Renly realised he'd been wrong to worry about Loras. Loras was quite possibly the best rider out today and he looked it too. He kept his seat easily and elegantly and whilst many of the horses skittered at the hounds running alongside them and at the splash of the water from the stream, Loras had his mount completely under his control.

Renly didn't have much time to stare, though, for suddenly Robert let out an even more incensed roar. Whipping his head back around, Renly saw that their quarry was slowing, worn out.

"It's at bay your grace." Selmy shouted as the hart limped to a halt. Now, too tired to run, the animal would turn and give attack.

The air must have cleared Robert's head a little for much steadier of foot now, he dismounted fluidly, armed with spear and blade. He seemed to know no fear and it was with the gait of a king that he approached the beast. It truly was a huge creature and as one stag faced the other, the men waited in anticipation.

They didn't wait long. Although the hart reared and bellowed, Robert stood invincible and he put a spear straight through the beast's heart.

The men roared as it fell and Robert roared the loudest, and just for a fleeting moment, Renly saw the man Robert had been on the trident once more.

………

They feasted on the creature that evening and Renly wondered whether he ought to have spent more of his name days in the capital. Toasts were raised in his honour and throughout the meal and dancing he was wished well by everyone in attendance. The wine too flowed freely and Renly found himself in very good spirits even though he wasn't seated with Loras and even though Stannis was sitting on one side of him, grinding his teeth at the frivolity of a name day celebration when the treasury was empty.

It was a perfect night and Renly danced with as many partners as he could until his feet hurt. All the same, he was a little glad too when late into the night, Robert finally decided that he was done with the last course, and by this point blind drunk, he stumbled off to his chambers with no fewer than eight girls at his side. The guests called it a night too after Robert's departure, and now craving a little quiet and Loras' company, Renly got out of his seat and headed back to his chambers, hoping that Loras would have the same idea.

Loras was indeed waiting for him when Renly got in. He was sat at the table with a flagon of wine and Renly sank down happily into the chair next to him. He was a little surprised to see Loras drinking so and he wondered if finally Loras was beginning to get a taste for the liquor he'd never particularly liked. He thought not, though, and imagined it more likely that Loras was drinking purely because it was his name day and he knew that Renly would not like to drink alone.

"Good day?" Loras asked, beaming at him, his cheeks a little rosy from the wine.

"Yes." Renly said decidedly, for it had been. "But I do wish I could have seen more of you."

Loras laughed and poured a cup for him. "There's all night to see me Renly. And I'm sure you shall not let me leave, or even sleep perhaps before morning."

He was probably right, Renly mused. He felt a little exhausted but once he'd had a few more cups of wine, Renly imagined that he would like nothing better than to take Loras to bed. He'd undress him slowly, taking his time after all the hurry and busyness of today. He had to wonder, though, which way round Loras would want it. As of late, Loras had seemed just as likely to want to take him as to be taken himself. Whether this was still to prove a point or if it was that Loras was finally getting a taste for having his own turn, Renly didn't know. He didn't mind really in the slightest, but today he was quite sure that he wanted it as they usually had it, just for familiarity's sake if anything. Whether that would be what Loras wanted too, though, he wasn't sure. The hunt had most likely got Loras' blood up and Renly wouldn't be surprised if Loras didn't share his preference tonight.

Renly was just about to ask him how he would like them to make love tonight when there was a knock at the door. For once, he and Loras were seated at the table like any friends might be and so Renly just shrugged.

"Enter." He called.

"My lord," Alyn looked a little abashed as he pushed open the door. "Your brother, the King, he's sent someone for you."

Renly laughed. "Well the king's the king. Send them in Alyn." He was mildly surprised at the disturbance and he did have to wonder who it was Robert was sending for him.

Alyn nodded and he hurried back out into the corridor.

Soon, the door opened again and Renly just had to sigh. A whore stood in the doorway, draped in silks and jewels. She really was beautiful, blonde with curls that fell to her waist, and she all but glittered in the candlelight. Whether they were real or not, Renly had no idea, but what appeared to be diamonds sparkled on her fingers and her neck hung heavy with crystals. This, Renly supposed, was Robert's idea of a name day present. He was not altogether surprised.

"M'lord." She stared seductively over at him.

Loras raised an eyebrow, all too amused. "I'll take my leave shall I?"

"Not so hasty m'lord." She purred and Renly's jaw dropped when he saw that there were another three girls standing behind her. "We're for lord Renly and his guests, the king said."

Renly laughed. "Is that so?" He picked out one from the back, a young girl with a patient face. "In which case, I dare say my squire could use a little company too. Pray find him and do as he asks." He had no idea whether Alyn would appreciate it and yet at three and ten now, he imagined that he probably would.

He beckoned the other three forward and bid them sit at the table. He poured them a cup of wine himself.

"Tell me your names." He ordered.

"Our names m'lord?" She looked a little confused. Renly imagined that the men she was charged with occupying usually had less interest in her name and more interest in what was between her legs.

"Yes your names." Renly laughed.

"I'm Violet m'lord, and this is Lysaria and Laena . They're sisters m'lord."

That much was plain to see, for the pair of girls looked as alike as he did to a young Robert. Both were olive skinned, with long dark legs and black hair that was twisted up into an elaborate style. They were as exotic as they were beautiful but Renly had no more interest in the pair of them than he did in the blonde Violet. Sighing, Renly leant back against the back of his chair. He supposed he should keep them here until it was plausible that he'd actually used them for their intended purpose. Robert would no doubt froth at the mouth if news reached him that his brother had sent away the whores he'd so graciously sent up to him.

"And where do you come from?" He asked the three of them.

"They don't speak the common tongue well m'lord. They're from Myr."

"And your lovely self?"

And I'm from Highgarden m'lord." Violette said, sipping her wine and laying a hand on Renly's thigh.

"Highgarden?" That caught Loras' interest and he leant in. "What brings you so far north?"

Renly had to roll his eyes. That was spoken like a true southerner. Highgarden wasn't really any further south than Storm's End and yet they seemed somehow more southern than the men of the Stormlands did. Renly reckoned it was the sunshine that made them so.

She giggled, fanning herself with a large fan made of peacock feathers that she'd taken out from god knows where. "Lord Baelish bought me m'lord. He brings girls from all over the kingdom to work for him, even from across the narrow sea."

"And were you expensive?" Loras asked, leaning in with a teasing look in his eyes.

Renly closed his eyes for a brief moment. He always managed to forget what a shameless flirt Loras could be. He was always particularly bad, Renly recalled, when there was any jealousy to be sparked.

"Oh yes m'lord." She tittered, and whilst one of the two sisters perched herself on the arm of Renly's chair and the other stood behind him to caress his neck, Violet stood and settled herself in Loras' lap. He didn't seem to mind her there and he even reached forward to the table and selected a flower from the vase, tucking it behind her ear.

"It's not a violet and it's not half as beautiful as you, but it shall have to do."

Renly just had to laugh. Loras just seemed all too fond of giving girls flowers, no matter the occasion. And this one, like the women Renly suspected that Loras wooed at his tourneys, seemed to fall for his charm just as hard. She was paid to seem interested but Renly had to wonder if she was really faking it now. Loras could be as alluring as any whore when he wanted to be.

"So," Renly laughed, ignoring the way one of the girls was sliding her hands down the back of his neck. In truth, it felt quite nice but all the same, it brought him no arousal. "How did you find the brothels in Highgarden dear Violet? How do the southern men compare to Lord Baelish's customers?"

"Oh they're much more chivalrous m'lord. They treat us like ladies."

Renly laughed. "You look like a lady to me." He said, making her blush and flutter her fan a little more. "Now tell me- any interesting men you've had visit you?"

She battered her eyelashes at him. "We're really not supposed to say m'lord."

Renly couldn't help smiling widely. This girl looked as ready to spill her secrets as Lord Varys wasn't. "But please Violet, we're so interested in what you have to say."

It took about ten seconds before she caved. "Oh if you insist m'lord." She giggled. "We see Tyrion Lannister all the time and Thoros of Myr with those red robes of his. Some of those whitecloaks too even, though apparently they're not supposed to." She flicked her hair out of her face and settled herself further in Loras' arms, dropping her voice to a whisper. "And one girls m'lords, she said that grand maester Pycelle was one of hers."

Loras made a face that Renly reckoned mirrored his own. it was disgust mixed with horror.

" _Grand maester Pycelle?_ " He tried not to picture the maester in any such act. "Well that is a wonder that nobody wants to dwell on. What about in Highgarden?" He grinned. He imagined that Ser Tanton especially probably spent half of his time in the Highgarden brothels.

"Well once m'lord, four years ago now, one of our liege lord's sons came in. He was the most special customer we'd ever had and he chose me."

Loras looked like he was about to explode with laughter.

"Which one of Mace Tyrell's sons?" Renly laughed, leaning in closer.

"Ooh I'm not sure. The youngest I think."

Renly caught Loras' eye and he shrugged back at him, still evidently holding back laughter. "Not me." He mouthed. He needn't have bothered. Renly reckoned he'd have noticed if his eleven year old squire had disappeared from Storm's End four years ago to fuck a whore in Highgarden.

"And what was he like?" Loras asked.

"Oh, lovely m'lord, charming and handsome. He had a betrothed lady love that he was eager to impress. He wanted to know how to please a woman, how to make her happy." She ran her hand up Loras' thigh as if to demonstrate.

"Garlan." Loras mouthed at him with a triumphant grin. Renly just grinned back at him. He remembered Loras asking Garlan once whether he'd ever frequented a brothel and the reply had been scathing. Loras, he imagined, was never going to let Garlan live this little revelation down.

"Was he good between the sheets?" Loras asked her with a wide grin. "Or was he truly terrible?"

She laughed, playing with one of her blonde curls alluringly. "He was a little clumsy at first m'lord, as all boys are, but we taught him how not to be. He was a sweet man m'lord, talked all the time he did of his lady love. Smitten, he was It was endearing the way he wanted to learn how to please her best."

"Endearing?" Renly laughed, thinking how odd it seemed to take instruction from a whore. He supposed, though, that it was easier for him than it was for most men. He knew what would bring Loras pleasure, which spots he should touch and how he should touch them, and it was easy to know because for all their small variations in size and shape, Loras' body was more or less the same as his. With a woman, though, Renly didn't think he'd really know where to start, and smiling to himself, he wondered whether he ought to do as Garlan had evidently done when the time came for him to take a wife. "And did he make you happy?" He asked.

"Oh yes m'lord. He was tall and broad of shoulder." She looked seductively up at him over the table. "A little like you m'lord. Will _you_ make me happy too?"

Renly sighed deeply and gave her an exaggerated apologetic look. "You're very beautiful Violet and I'm sorely tempted, but I'm afraid there's a tiny little problem that my brother has not foreseen."

"Is it that you already have yourself a love milord?"

"Why yes." Renly grinned. "It's that indeed Violet. A sacred promise I've made."

Loras laughed. "Personally, I reckon it's because he can't get it up. Don't you think girls?"

"Oh no m'lord." Violet leant across the table and ran her hand teasingly over Renly's chest as the foreign girls too giggled. "You can see just from looking at him that lord Renly's a man full of lusts."

"That I am." Renly grinned. "Practically brimming with them. But I'm afraid I'm save my lusts for someone else this evening."

"But m'lord, don't you want us to teach you too how to make her happy?" She shifted so that the silk draped across her chest fell to reveal her breasts. "We're very talented."

Renly felt his grin widen. "I'm sure you are, but I think I already know how to make her happy Violet."

Loras laughed at that. "I think lord Renly's telling fibs again." He confided to Violet. "I dare say he could do with a lot of teaching. Days of it in fact, until Lord Baelish owns every gold coin he once had."

"Oh m'lord, aren't you cruel." She twisted in Loras' lap to face him. "Do you know Lord Renly's lady love m'lord? Is she pretty?"

Loras nodded solemnly. "Very pretty and very hard to please I should imagine."

Renly just laughed and rolled his eyes at Loras when the whore wasn't looking. "She's very pretty Violet, and I should be going to her now perhaps." He looked pointedly at Loras who grinned and gave Violet's bottom a playful slap. Giggling she stood and Renly reached into his pocket and drew out his money bag, pouring a decent sized pile of coins into her hand. "Share it out between you and don't let Littlefinger see a penny of it. Now off with you."

They needed telling twice even after they'd been paid and Renly picked up his cup once they'd gone and drank wearily. "Gods you're cruel to me Loras."

Loras smirked and getting up, came to massage his shoulders as the girls from Myr had done. "I'm not cruel" He said, kissing the top of his head. "Coincidence that she's from Highgarden isn't it?"

"Not so much." Renly laughed. "I dare say that Robert didn't choose the girls personally. He'll have asked Littlefinger to pick ones he thinks I'll like. And this, Loras, choosing a girl from Highgarden and with curly hair no less, was clearly Littlefinger's idea of a joke. " Renly imagined it was payback for the fact that Renly had refused yet to let Littlefinger corner him since returning from Storm's End. Renly did not doubt that Littlefinger was all too amused that Renly had not only ridden to Storm's End upon being told Loras' was hurt, but that he had stayed there for almost a month.

Loras just laughed, and his hands were so gentle on Renly's neck that Renly knew that he'd do whatever Renly asked of him tonight, no matter what he was in the mood for.


	86. Chapter 86

Renly didn’t wake till well past noon the next day and Renly didn’t think he’d have woken at all had Loras not shaken him so.

“Wake up.” He laughed in Renly’s ear, the sound somehow distant. " _Wake up_." He shook him a little harder.

Renly just groaned and tried to roll over. “I'm awake.” He pulled the pillow over his head, trying to block out both the sun and the noise. Loras was still talking but Renly couldn't find it in himself to listen, not when his bed was so soft underneath him and his eyelids so heavy. It was pleasant background noise, Loras' voice familiarly soothing in his ear, but the words seemed of little importance. He heard them but didn't really make any sense of them.

Loras persisted though, and eventually the words started to take a little form despite Renly's best efforts to fall back asleep.

“I want my money.” Loras was saying.

“What money?” Renly mumbled.

“You gave those girls who knows how many golds for less than an hour, I was here all night. So pay up.”

“My moneybag’s on the table.” Renly murmured into the bedsheets. “Take what you like.”

“Perhaps I’ll just pocket it all.”

This all seemed very bizarre and so Renly raised his head wearily, venturing out from under the pillow. “What in the seven hells are you going on about Loras?”

“Just seeing if you were awake.” Loras laughed. "You know, I had this odd feeling that you weren't really listening to a word I was saying."

Renly just grinned lazily at him. He wasn't about to deny it. "Just come here will you and stop talking?" It felt too early to be talking despite the sun being high in the sky outside and there was a cold space next to him in bed where Renly thought Loras might fit quite nicely.

Rolling his eyes fondly, Loras crossed the room and bent to kiss him. He was fully dressed and evidently on his way out but Renly didn’t care. He pulled down on top of him and held him there, wrapping his arms around him.

“Stay?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“No.” Renly wrapped his legs around him too and all but smothered him with the bedcovers. “But will you though? Of your own will?”

“Can’t.” Loras laughed, the sound a little muffled against Renly's chest. “I want to get as much practice in as possible before I go home.”

Renly groaned. To his great disappointment, Loras had decided that he wished to spend a little more time with his sister around her name day than just the week or two that Renly would pass there for the tourney and ball that her father was throwing for her. Renly thought this fair enough and yet he still wasn't looking forward to Loras going on ahead of him in the slightest. Beyond that too, he couldn't quite free himself of the jealousy that threatened to consume him whenever Loras' sister was involved. He knew it was unfair for him to feel that way, irrational even as he had both met and liked Margaery, but the fact remained that she was a threat to him ever having Loras' full affections for himself, the only threat perhaps. She was the only person with the power to tear Loras from his side and Renly knew this too well, knew that if Margaery so much as called him back to her, that Loras would go. Quite probably it would be with more than a few very regretful glances backwards, but all the same he would go, and he would not come back until his sister gave him leave to. It was one of those fears, though, that Renly supposed he would just have to learn to live with.

“When are you going again?” Renly asked, burying his jealousy and loosening his grip on Loras as if to prove somehow to himself that he was prepared to let Loras leave.

“In four days. But you shall join me soon enough shan't you?” Loras slipped his hands underneath Renly's neck and bent to kiss him. His lips were soft and warm and it was Renly could have wanted. It ended too soon though, and once he'd pulled away, Loras nudged him pointedly for a response to his question.

“In a fortnight.” Renly agreed, wishing Loras would kiss him again. As it was, though, Loras just ignored the way Renly was tilting his face hopefully up towards Loras' and smirked down at him.

“And then together we shall tear Garlan apart?” He grinned.

Renly laughed. Loras had yet to move on from that piece of information the whore had given them. It had amused him no end and Renly had to pity Garlan rather quite a bit. Loras could be quite ruthless sometimes and he imagined that when Loras finally got to confront Garlan about this that it would be one of Loras' more ruthless moments.

“Don’t dare bring it up without me.” Renly insisted.

Loras looked a little pained at that, as if he was thinking of the two weeks he would have to spend with Garlan without mentioning it, but eventually he nodded. "Alright." He said through slightly gritted teeth. "But you shall make it up to me when you join me."

"How?" Renly asked, laughing.

"I'll think on it." Loras told him with a small smirk playing at his face. "But whatever it is, I'm sure you shall enjoy it too."

Renly grinned at him, and shifted Loras slightly so that he was tucked into his side rather than lying atop him. Despite his earlier words, Loras stayed put rather readily, yawning and laying his head down on the pillow next to Renly's.

"You know Loras," Renly commented after a while, rifling his fingers absent-mindedly through Loras' curls. "I should have thought you'd be jealous yesterday. With all those women fighting so for my attentions."

Loras raised an eyebrow. "Me? Jealous?" He seemed unimpressed at the notion. "When have I ever been jealous?"

Renly just raised his own eyebrow in turn. "I do hope you're joking Loras. I'd list all the times you've been jealous, but we'd be here till next week." It was true and Renly would hit Loras hard with the pillow if he tried to deny it. Renly remembered all too well how Loras could sometimes be, how he'd been about the Dornish boy and as he'd been too at any mention of the Princess Arianne. "Admit it." He laughed.

"Fine." Loras conceded through clenched teeth. "Sometimes, occasionally, I get a little jealous."

"But not yesterday?" Renly pressed.

"No."

"Well why not?"

Loras was silent for a while before he answered, shifting in Renly's arms a little as he evidently contemplated the question. "Because they were whores Renly." He eventually said, propping himself up on an elbow and shrugging at Renly. "They had nothing to offer you that I can't give you, or that you would even enjoy."

"What if they'd been male whores?" Renly laughed. "Would that have changed anything?"

"Probably." Loras admitted. "I'd have certainly insisted you send them away. I wouldn't like knowing that they could satisfy you as I do."

That seemed logical enough to Renly. "So your jealousy depends on whether I'm faced with a woman or a man then?"

Loras shrugged. "Not really. It's the ladies I hate the most." There was a bitter edge to his voice that wasn't usually there and Renly stroked Loras' hair back off his face, a little confused.

"Why's that?" Renly asked softly. "It's not as if I have any more interest in what's between a lady's legs than in what's between a whore's."

"I know, but it's different." Loras told him, laying his head against Renly's chest. "You shall marry a lady one day and she shall take you away from me."

Renly shook his head. "No Loras. Nobody shall ever take me away from you." He didn't think he could emphasise that enough. He didn't care how beautiful or accomplished his wife was, he didn't think he'd have a tenth of the interest he had in Loras in her.

Loras shrugged. "Perhaps. But you shall wed her and be hers in a way you can never be mine. And she shall give you children Renly, a family. And me? Well I shall never be part of that family."

"I guess not." Renly admitted a little reluctantly. He tried to think of something encouraging to say back to that and yet he could think of nothing. "I'd never thought about it like that."

Loras gave him a small smile. "I wouldn't have expected you to." He kissed Renly softly on the lips again before pulling himself out of his embrace. “I’ll see you tonight then.”

.............

Renly dragged himself out of bed shortly after Loras left him, supposing really that he should seek out Robert and thank him for his name day gift. He'd had no interest in what they had had to offer him but despite this, though, he'd found that their presence had riled him up more than he'd imagined it would. Whether it was merely that they'd forced him to delay taking Loras to bed and that that anticipation had heightened his desire, or whether it was that Loras' attempts to make him jealous had worked better than he thought they had, Renly had no idea. What he did know, however, was that even a whole brothel's worth of whores couldn't have satisfied him in the way Loras had done last night. Quite honestly, he didn't know how Loras did it. In the couple of times that Loras had fucked him this past week, he hadn't been exactly sore afterwards, but there would have been no way he'd have let Loras take him again that very same evening. Loras, on the other hand, didn't seem to struggle with that at all.

Alyn looked a little embarrassed when Renly saw him as he made his way out of his rooms but there was a spring in his step and Renly just grinned at him. He remembered too how exquisite it felt that first time, when the sensation was still new and unknown, a little terrifying almost. It made him almost a little envious. Whilst he was quite sure that he and Loras gave each other a lot more pleasure nowadays than they had in those first couple of times, nothing could compare really to that thrill of working out together exactly how close two people could get.

Robert was sat in his solar when Renly found him and to his surprise, Stannis was sat with him. There were pieces of parchment spread all over the table, and Renly could see that Stannis had written the word empty at the bottom and as Renly got closer he could see that it was describing the state of the treasury. It was even underlined and circled in thick ink. Neither of his brothers looked at all pleased, but whether this was because of the state of the treasury, Rely couldn't tell. There was a grim expression carved into Stannis' hard face and Robert looked like he'd been bored almost to death.

“Renly,” Robert rose and waved aside Stannis' words as he clapped him on the shoulder. “How did you find those girls of Littlefinger’s last night?"

Renly grinned knowingly at him. "I doubt you want to know Robert." He said with a sly smile.

Robert snorted. The answer obviously pleased him and he'd evidently made the assumption that Renly had intended him to. Stannis, on the other hand, did not and slowly, his lips pursed. It was a thinly veiled threat.

Renly just smiled innocently at him and turned back to Robert, frowning. “I’m not quite sure you sent many enough though? Only four?”

Robert guffawed and clapped him on the back again. "Thought I'd ease you in brother. Takes a real man to occupy any more." He puffed out his chest as if he were still rippling with muscles instead of the flab that hung down to below his belt. It was a good thing he was both king and had coin in his pocket, Renly thought, otherwise Robert would struggle to persuade any women to come to bed with him, let alone the large gaggles of girls that he claimed to pleasure so well.

Renly sighed. "And how do I become a real man then?" He asked, humouring him.

"War, boy. You need to see the life drain from a man's eyes as you drive your sword into his chest, see his blood as you crush his skull with your hammer, feel your own strength." He looked a little lost in memories and Renly thought it a little sad that his brother's best memories involved ripping other men limb from limb.

"You'd better start one for me then." Renly said dryly. "I wouldn't want peace getting in the way of me becoming a real man."

"And tear the Kingdoms apart?" Stannis rose stiffly, and taking his pieces of parchments with him, he stalked to the door. "I see I'm wasting my time here your grace."

Both Renly and Robert shrugged as the door closed behind him, banging shut with a loud clang that echoed throughout the room.

"Let him go." Robert grunted.

Renly raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps we should send Stannis a few of Littlefinger's girls for his name day too.” He suggested. "Might loosen him up a bit."

“Don’t tempt me brother.” Robert said, sinking back into his chair. "Trust our brother to kick up a fuss just because Joff wants a tourney thrown for his name day. I've given him and that damned Littlefinger months to find the gold but what does Stannis do? He insists that we all need to tighten our belts, that Joff has no business having a tournament thrown for him when the coffer's empty. Damn the coffer is what I say. And damn him."

Renly just nodded. It was the only thing he could do without most likely being forcibly thrown from the room. He sat down too. “Why was Joff not at the hunt your grace?” He asked. He'd been all too glad of his absence but all the same, he was more than a little surprised not to have seen the Crown Prince in attendance.

“Cersei.” Robert muttered. “Thought he’d be trampled." He poured himself a long drink as if the mere thought of his wife made him desperately need one. "Damn that woman. She’s poisoning that boy. Needs a good beating he does, not being swaddled in her damned skirts.”

Renly laughed. “A beating? How so?” He couldn't agree more.

“Kicks Tommen." Robert said shortly, reaching for his cup of wine again. "Stannis might have been a little shit but I never kicked him. Not once.”

“Tempting though.” Renly laughed, glancing over at the door Stannis had just left through. “Perhaps you should unleash Joffrey on him.” He joined Robert in taking a cup of wine and tried not to stare too much as the liquor stained Robert's greying beard a deep purple.

Robert grunted and merely changed the subject. “So, you're off to Highgarden again I hear.”

“Not tempted to join me?” Renly laughed. "See the beauty of the Reach in its full splendour?"

Robert shrugged, drinking deeply. “You can go in my stead. I’ve better things to do than sit at the fat flower’s table and have that woman stay here and whisper in my son’s ear.”

Renly shrugged too. “As you like, Robert.” Exactly what he meant by having better things to do was a mystery to Renly as Robert seemed to do nothing all day. It had been years even since Renly had seen Robert seated upon the iron throne that he’d won so valiantly with hammer and sword. He hunted, he whored and he drank. That was all he did and they were all things he could have done in Highgarden. All the same, Renly was not about to complain.

……

Renly told Loras all about the exchange later, once Loras was back from the training yard and sunk comfortably into a hot bath.

"I'd have thought the king the sort to have kicked Stannis as a child." Loras commented, pouring a thin stream of scented oil into the water and swirling it around with his fingers.

Renly laughed and drew up a chair beside the the tub. "For all his love of war, my brother's not a cruel man Loras. He never stuck me. Not even once."

"And Stannis did?" Loras laughed. "Is his hand as hard as he is?" He lounged back in the water lazily.

"Once" Renly admitted, laughing a little with the memory. "It was when the late Lord Morrigen was coming to dine with us. The kitchen girls had made a lovely assortment of sweets for afters and laid them out in the kitchens. Only I saw them first and fed them all to my pony. Stannis smacked me then, when he found me with cream down my doublet and sugared buns stuffed in my pockets." Renly laughed. "He didn't smack me hard, though, just hard enough to warn me from doing it again." That was the one and only time that Renly reckoned he'd been struck. Penrose, for all his disregard for rules, would never have dared to take a hand to the little lord he'd been charged with raising.

"Did you cry?" Loras flicked some water at him to get his attention.

"Oh yes." Renly laughed. "I cried for ages, and all to the tune of more sugared buns being hurriedly made to placate me." He flicked water back in Loras' face, a rather ineffectual gesture seeing as Loras was already wet. "What about you? Your lord father ever taken a hand to you?"

Loras frowned. "I don't think so. My grandmother did once, really hard with her cane."

Renly grinned. He could just imagine the Lady Olenna doing such a thing. Despite being a woman, she seemed to have a lot more backbone than her son did. He doubted that she stood for much nonsense. "What had you done?" He asked.

Loras looked a little sheepish. "I don't remember." Suspiciously hastily, he began rubbing soap into his curls, running his fingers through them to get the tangles out.

"Lies." Renly laughed, twirling a soapy curl around his finger.

"Fine." Loras rolled his eyes. "You mustn't judge me too harshly though." He returned all the same, though, to washing his hair and Renly didn't believe he really had any intention of going on with his story.

"So..?" Renly prompted, wondering if he ought to threaten to brush Loras' hair when it was dry again. He imagined that it would be reasonably easy to do it as Loras slept, brushing out the curls out as fiercely as he could so that he would be a laughing stock in the morning.

Loras sighed. "Alright. I'd kicked up a fuss about leaving Highgarden one time, really dragged my heels and struck out at all the men who tried to forcibly put me on my horse. I refused all of their attempts until eventually my grandmother heard all the commotion and came to hit me with her cane." He laughed. "She called me spoilt and disagreeable, and I mounted my horse pretty quickly after that."

Renly laughed. "Gods, where were they trying to take you?"

"Um," Loras mumbled, looking down at the water and searching for a bar of fragranced soap that had slipped out of his hands. "To Storm's End."

" _To Storm's End?_ " Renly just stared at him. "You didn't want to come?"

Loras shrugged, still looking for the soap. "Not particularly."

"Why not?" Renly demanded. He felt a little disappointed at that. Loras had always given the impression that he'd been pleased to be a squire at Storm's End. It was no doubt how he'd been told to seem.

"I'd never left the Reach, Renly." Loras told him earnestly. "I'd barely been out of Highgarden. And then suddenly I was told that I was to be sent leagues and leagues away, to some castle where it apparently rained all the time and to some lord who I'd never met and who wasn't even knighted himself. Willas had squired in Highgarden until his accident, and Garlan nearby, but me- I was ten years old and one day my father sat me down and told me I was to be sent away, and I knew even then that I probably wasn't going to do anything anyway. I was being sent only so that my father could have the prestige of saying that his son squired for the brother to the king."

Renly had never thought about it like that. He'd known Loras had been terribly homesick when he'd arrived, but he'd never contemplated the possibility that he hadn't wanted to come. "I feel bad now." He said

"Don't." Loras laughed, finally getting his hands on the soap and rubbing it into a lather. "I was wrong to fret so."

"But in truth you _didn't_ do anything useful squiring for me, and you _were_ far away from your siblings." Renly said. Often Loras had complained of having little to do, and in four years, Loras had been home but once, when Willas had had his accident. Renly suddenly wondered whether he should have sent him more often. Not being fond of his own brothers, he supposed that it had just not occurred to him to send Loras back home more often. "And you weren't wrong to fret about the weather either." Renly added, thinking of how it rained so in Storm's End.

Loras shrugged. "But I met you. And fair, you were no knight. But you were kind and you made a friend of me. And had I squired like Willas and Garlan had done, I would have never known you at all."

Renly smiled. "True." He took Loras' wet hand in his own, feeling quite a bit better now. "Where did Garlan squire then?"

Loras laughed. "Cider Hall, where else? To be fair, he wasn't there very often, for lord Fossoway spends half his time at my father's court, but how else do you think he ended up in Leonette's bed?"

Renly grinned. "I hadn't thought about it." He admitted. "Your father seems to have sons then with a knack for finding bed partners when sent to squire then."

"I guess." Loras laughed. "I suppose he got one marriage and, well..." He trailed off, evidently searching for the word that described what he and Renly had. "-and us." He finished eventually. He seemed a little disappointed not to have found a word and so Renly just squeezed his hand. He didn't know the word either. He supposed that the closest might be paramour but that somehow had the connotation that the lover was an illicit one, one taken in addition to a husband or wife. Loras would not like the connotation nor the word. Perhaps the word they sought didn't exist.

Indeed, Loras quickly changed the subject and Renly suspected that it pained Loras to think of Garlan and Leonette and of himself and Renly in quick succession. Garlan and Leonette, Renly supposed, were what he and Loras could have been had one of them been a woman. Loras would have liked that, he thought, and Renly wondered not for the first time what Loras would give to be able to embrace him or kiss him outside of the safety of their own chambers, perhaps just to be able to touch him even. It would be a lot that he would give, Renly suspected, probably more than Loras had.

“So your brother really loathes the Lannister woman that much?” Loras asked instead, looking a lot happier for it.

“Yes.” Renly sighed. “And when Robert dies, I dare say Joffrey will do little but repeat what poisons Robert says she whispers in his ear.” He grinned. “We just have to hope she dies before Robert does I guess. Otherwise it shall be her ruling the kingdoms.”

“Want me to put a sword through her?” Loras asked lazily.

“And see your head of a spike?” Renly just laughed.

“Couldn’t Robert just take a different wife?” Loras asked shortly, dunking his head in the water to get rid of the soap.

Renly shook his head fondly. Everything was all so simple to Loras. There were so many issues that Loras just failed to see- Cersei’s money being the main one. And knowing Robert, he’d have little interest in the idea, Renly thought. He had his whores to please him and whilst Cersei was a terror, her father’s money made her pragmatic if not desirable. 

“Well why not?” Loras retorted. “He’s the king, he can do whatever he likes. If I were him I’d do what I liked. And the Targaryens wed brother to sister for centuries, that’s rather quite a bit harder to stomach than casting aside some woman that nobody likes anyway.”

He had a point and Renly wondered whether, irrational idea as it was, it was worth giving some thought to. He supposed that Robert might be convinced if the girl was a particular beauty and had a rich enough father. It was worth mulling over perhaps, Renly thought, _if_ , and only if, he could find the right girl. 


	87. Chapter 87

Loras left as planned and Renly quickly remembered why he hated residing at court so much. The days just seemed to drag on endlessly, the hours passing as if Renly were sitting and watching the grass grow. He gave dinners, entertained lords and ladies for Robert, did all the things that usually gave him so much pleasure. With Loras gone, however, nothing seemed to hold any charm for him. What was the point of giving dinners, Renly had to think, if you had nobody to talk about them with afterwards, nobody with whom to share the gossip of who had taken a lover and whose hair was beginning to grey. 

He only had a fortnight, though, to withstand and Renly didn’t think he’d felt more joyous as he did when they were preparing to leave, the horses tacked up and ready to go. Even Stannis' presence hadn't grated that morning and Renly had even felt in a good enough mood to simply thank him when Stannis had wished him a good time in Highgarden through gritted teeth.

The men were in high spirits too, as if they too felt the same relief to be leaving the stink of the capital. They probably did, Renly suspected, and besides, most of the men he was taking with him would be competing in the tourney alongside him. It was easy in fact to see why the prospect of a stay in Highgarden was so appealing. Alongside the jousting, there would be feasts almost every night, with good wine and dancing, simple pleasures that any man except Stannis could not help but delight in. 

Renly was looking forward to all these things but most of all, he was looking forward to Loras.

.............

The road was aimiable enough but they were only about four miles from Highgarden when Renly had to call for the men to halt. Darkness had fallen some time ago, but whilst Renly didn't usually make a habit of riding through the night, with so little distance to cover, they had decided to press on regardless. Now, though, Renly was wondering whether that had been such a good decision. Peering into the blackness that stretched out towards Highgarden, they could see torches flickering ahead of them on the road, and in the distance, they could just make out what sounded like men shouting.

"Bandits?" Alyn whispered beside Renly, peering into the darkness too. 

Renly doubted it. Bandits wouldn't want to make their presence known so close to Highgarden, the seat of the Warden of the South. They definitely wouldn't want to be attracting attention. c

"Can't be." Grandison said, confirming Renly's thoughts. "Bandits travel in darkness and those are lit torches down there."

"Then what is it?" Ser Andrew asked. He turned to Renly. "My lord?"

Renly looked again. It wasn't unusual to see lit torches on the road at night, but what was odd was that the party they could see didn't appear to be travelling the road at all. They were heading in neither direction but instead were moving in circles. The only things that came to mind were that the men down there had either lost the road and were searching for it, or that they were lying in wait for something. Neither option explained why the men were shouting and neither seemed likely.

He sighed. "I have absolutely no idea in the faintest." Renly said reluctantly. He had to admit that it all seemed a bit odd.

"If I may my lord, I think they're looking for something." Ser Guyard noted. "Look at their formation."

"What formation?" Grandison scoffed.

"Exactly. There is none." Ser Guyard gestured into the darkness and Renly nodded in agreement. "They can't be going anywhere as they're not even following the road. Instead, they're wandering without any rhyme or reason."

They all watched for a while, sat on the brow of the hill. Renly had not ordered them to, but as if by instinct the men had grouped more tightly together and when Renly looked around, he could see that most of them had their hands on the hilt of their swords. 

"We should press on." Renly decided eventually, pushing his horse into a trot a little reluctantly. "I dare say whatever is going on shall become clear."

The torches got nearer as they descended the hill and the shouts too got louder. It was now clear that the men with the torches were all shouting the same thing, a word that Renly couldn't distinguish but that they were repeating over and over again. 

"They're not looking for _something_." Ser Andrew mused after a few minutes. "They're looking for _someone_. The Tyrell girl."

"And how did you work that out?" Grandison snorted.

"Because they're shouting her name." Ser Andrew said simply, with more than a little smugness in his voice. "Listen."

Renly listened and indeed they were shouting for Margaery. He supposed that that had to mean she was missing, a state of affairs that would no doubt make the lord of Highgarden more anxious than he'd probably ever been. Loras too would probably be fretting and Renly wondered whether Loras was one of the men ahead of them holding the torches. He hoped so, although he dared say that Loras would be too preoccupied with the task at hand to give him too warm a welcome. He would probably just thrust a torch into his hand and order him to get looking too. With that in mind, Renly quickened their pace. He dared say that Loras would later murder him himself if Renly didn't attempt to to help with the evident search for his sister.

The men raised their torches as they approached and Renly was more than a little relieved to recognise Ser Garlan at the head of the group. He realised then that a tiny part of him had still been expecting bandits despite the fact that they had worked out what the men were shouting.

"Lord Renly." Garlan rode forth to great him and didn't appear to be anxious at all. "It's an honour to see you again. Fortunately, everything is ready for the tourney this week. Unfortunately perhaps, we appear to have lost my sister and Loras."

"Oh." Renly had not considered the possibility that Loras was with Margaery rather than with the search party. He wondered whether he ought to be worried. "I'm sorry to hear that. How long have they been missing?" He could feel the gaze of his men on his face. They were evidently waiting to see how he would take this news. Renly forced himself thus to keep a smile on his face. He had no desire to give the men any sign that he cared any more about Loras being missing than any lord might about a boy who had once been his squire.

"They went out about mid afternoon," Garlan told him with a grin. "So it's rather a lot of fuss over nothing really. No doubt my father's tied himself up in knots worrying about my precious sister. Loras was supposed to bring her back before dark you see, and to take an escort with them. Of course he did neither."

Renly laughed. "Of course he didn't." He sighed, running a hand through his hair "Well I'm sure he'll have let no harm come to her." He knew all too well how much Loras adored his only sister. Loras would give his own life before he let anyone lay a hand on her.

"I agree." Garlan said cheerfully." My father frets all the same though. There are thousands of possibilities you see. She might have been taken ill, he says, or separated from Loras. Or her horse might have fallen down a well, or drowned her in a stream, or perhaps thieves ambushed her when Loras wasn't looking. or perhaps, and apparently this is unlikely, him and Margaery are just up to their usual mischief."

He seemed rather amused and Renly felt rather reassured. All the same, looking around him into the darkness, Renly didn't like to think of Loras and Margaery all alone out there. The rational part of him told him, though, that Loras was very unlikely to have got his sister into any danger. Most likely, they  had just lost track of time or something.

"We shall help you look for them if you wish it." Renly told Garlan.

"That would be much appreciated." Garlan scratched his beard. "Well, we've already scoured this part of the forest. And you obviously didn't see them in that direction or else they'd have joined you." He sighed. "Perhaps we should move east, there are some meadows over towards Cider Hall that my sister is well fond of."

Renly agreed and once all of Garlan's searching men had rejoined the main group, they set off east, the torches raised high and the men inspecting the ground to try and spot anything that might give them an indication that Loras and Margaery had passed this way.

"Do you think, Guyard," Ser Andrew was saying. "That if we find the Tyrell girl, that she might give us a kiss?" 

Ser Guyard chuckled but Grandison snorted disdainfully. "I doubt it." He said. "But Loras might."

There was much laughter and Renly pretended he hadn't heard. He was glad too that Garlan seemed not to have heard either. Garlan was possibly the most good natured man Renly knew and yet he imagined that even Garlan might not be too happy to hear his younger brother being spoken about in such a way. He had to admire Grandison's nerve, though. To speak so about Loras in possible earshot of both himself and Garlan took a disregard for courtesy that Renly could never have managed even if he tried.

They looked for another hour among the trees and the fields before Garlan eventually decided to call it a day. "We'll rejoin my father." He told Renly, his face tired. "I dare say that if we haven't found them, then my father's group will have done. They can't have gone far after all."

Renly just nodded as they turned around. He hoped Garlan was right. He didn't like to dwell on all the horrible things that could have befallen them. Earlier, Garlan had laughed at his father's worry and Renly had joined in. Now, though, Renly thought he was dangerously close to sharing Mace Tyrell's way of thinking. Inexplicably, he also felt a little guilty. It had been a year now since Renly had been Loras' lord and yet he still felt more than a little responsible for the boy Mace Tyrell had charged him with raising, like it was his fault somehow that Loras had gone missing this evening.

They didn't come across the search party that Garlan's father had taken out until they were almost at Highgarden's gates.

Mace Tyrell was sat atop a very large white horse that stood outside the white gates that led to the castle. To Renly’s surprise, to Mace's right, sat Willas, in the saddle like all the other men.  Renly had never seen Willas on a horse before and indeed he looked more than a little uncomfortable. His game leg hung limp against the horse’s flank at a very odd angle, and judging from how pale his face was, it was very painful for him to sit so.

Mace Tyrell, however, looked a little red in the face and Renly could see he was trying to keep his composure. 

“What happened?” He was saying. "I demand to know it."

It was only then that Renly spotted Loras and he imagined that he breathed an audible sigh of relief. He was standing in front of his father with his back to Renly and he looked quite unharmed. Unlike most of the men surrounding him, he was stood on his own two feet and had it just been him there, Renly would have dismounted to take him in his arms. As it was, though, he stayed in the saddle and looked around for Margaery. He didn't have to look far. She was stood by Loras' side, stood so close by him that she was all but tucked under his arm. She had the reins of a dapple grey mare in her hand and aside from looking more than a little windswept, her hair almost wild as it tumbled down her back, she too appeared unharmed.

It was she that spoke first. “Well,” she started, picking a stray leaf out of her hair. "Father-"

“-I asked Loras.” Mace Tyrell waved her words away with a frown, his tone grave.

Renly just raised an eyebrow. He was a more than a little surprised to hear Lord Mace talk so to his daughter and perhaps Mace had surprised himself too, for almost as soon as the words were out of his mouth, he beckoned Margaery forward. She didn't refuse him and, duly, she passed the reins of her horse to Loras and went to to her father. Lord Mace then lifted her up onto his horse alongside him, looking a lot happier for it. 

"Well Loras?" He pressed. 

Loras took a little while to reply and Renly, following Garlan, tried to edge around the group so that they could see his face. When they could, he didn't look particularly happy. He was biting down on his lower lip with rather a set expression on his face. It was an expression that Renly was well familiar with. 

“We were riding Father, that's all, and the horse bucked me just as it was getting dark.” Loras’ teeth were gritted, and he looked like he hated admitting such a thing in front of so many people. Renly was rather glad Loras hadn't yet noticed the group of knights he'd brought with him too. If Loras had realised that men like Ser Guyard and Ser Grandison were to be witness to his confession, Renly reckoned that he wouldn't have said a word. 

"Dusk fell hours ago." Mace Tyrell snapped, tightening his grip around Margaery. "And you promised me you'd bring her back whilst it was still light."

Loras just took a deep breath, looking like he was trying very hard to refrain from rolling his eyes. "The horse bolted Father."

"And?"

“And so we looked for it for a while.”

Only then did Renly notice the absence of Loras' horse. He had the reins of what had evidently been Margaery's horse in his hands from where she had given them to him, but he appeared to have no horse of his own.

“Forget the horse,” Mace Tyrell fumed. “ _Your sister_ , Loras, anything could have happened.”

Loras just shrugged. "I guess." He admitted. 

“But no, Loras wants to ride the damned animal in the lists this week.” Garlan muttered beside Renly. “So of course they spent three hours looking for the horse.”

Renly just grinned beside him. That Loras had taken the decision to look for the horse instead of abiding by his father's rules did not surprise him in the slightest. Loras had never had any respect for his superiors. That was why he and Penrose had got on so badly and why he and Renly had got on so well perhaps.

Mace Tyrell looked about to speak again and perhaps just to hush him, Garlan rolled his eyes and rode forward. “Father,” he said. “We have guests.”

“Oh,” Mace smoothed down his doublet and like he'd never been angry at all, he forced a smile. Renly wouldn't have been surprised if he would have refrained from disciplining Loras at all had he known that he had an audience aside from the men of his household guard. 

Loras too swivelled round and he spotted Renly instantly. He gave him a rather apologetic glance, rolling his eyes and inclining his head slightly in his father's direction. Renly did not doubt that he would later rant about how his father had fretted to him later, when they'd escaped into their chambers and were able to close the door behind them. 

“Lord Renly,” Mace said, looking a little flustered. “We're delighted. Did the road treat you well?"

"Very well thank you." Renly told him. "I'm afraid, though, that I bear my brother's condolences. Important matters keep him in the capital."

Everyone there must have known that for a lie but nobody said anything to contradict him. Nobody would ever have dared and Renly supposed that these sort of lies were the acceptable ones, the ones that were told to prevent causing embarrassment. He did not like to think how flustered Mace Tyrell would have become had Renly told him that Robert could not be bothered to make the journey.

"A shame." Mace Tyrell bumbled. "But of course, I dare say the king has much to occupy him."

"Indeed." Renly agreed with a smile.

"Well then." Mace Tyrell clapped his hands. "Why don't we all turn in for the night then. I imagine everyone is a little tired." He tightened his grip on Margaery once more and turned his horse in the direction of Highgarden. It being clear that Margaery was to stay there where her father could see her, Loras mounted Margaery's horse and fell in alongside beside them. 

It didn't take them long to reach Highgarden and whilst both Loras and Margaery were whisked away somewhere by their father, Willas was charged with taking Renly to his chambers. The effort of riding had evidently tired him and his limp was worse than usual as he accompanied Renly up the stairs. Renly tried not to stare.

“That was very unlike Loras today.” Renly commented to Willas as they reached the top of the stairs and turned down the corridor. "I've never seen him fall." It was true, Renly thought. He'd seen Loras on all sorts of horses, even notoriously badly behaved ones and he'd never seen Loras even come close to losing his seat. It wasn't like he was careful either. Loras would try and jump anything or cross any terrain, and even then Renly had never seen him get into any difficulty.

“Mmm.” Willas agreed. "Most unlike Loras indeed." He gave Renly a rather knowing smile as they reached the flight of the stairs that would take Renly up to his rooms.

It was then that Renly grasped it. “It wasn’t Loras the horse threw,” He said slowly, to himself really as the pieces fell into place. “It was Margaery.”

Willas laughed quietly. “My thoughts exactly lord Renly."


	88. Chapter 88

Renly didn't wait up for Loras as he usually would and instead he just undressed and got himself ready for bed. WIth Mace Tyrell angered as he was, he imagined that the earliest he would be graced with Loras' presence would be the morning, if he were lucky and if Mace Tyrell felt like being lenient.

He'd been in bed for half an hour or so, though, when his door creaked open.

“Renly,” Loras whispered. “Are you still awake?”

“Yes.” Renly yawned, not bothering to sit up. Loras would come to him presently. He always did.

“Can you just come and help me with something for a moment?"

Renly opened his eyes and rolled over to light the candle. Loras was standing by the bed, oddly holding a handkerchief to his neck. He frowned. This wasn't quite how he'd expected Loras to turn up in his chambers.

“Whatever is the matter?” He asked, sitting up and stifling another yawn.

“I’ve cut myself.”

Renly cocked his head and climbed out of bed. “How did you manage that?” He asked.

“With a razor.” Loras told him bluntly.

Renly laughed. “A razor?" That was news to him. The last time he'd heard, Loras hadn't been in the habit of shaving. He supposed that he ought not be surprised though. Loras was fifteen now. He was no boy.

Loras raised an eyebrow. “Just help me will you?”

Renly laughed and peered at Loras' neck. He couldn't see much due to the fact that Loras still holding a handkerchief to his neck. "Does it hurt?”

“No, it’s just irritating. It won’t stop bleeding.”

“Oh.” Renly took the handkerchief from him and indeed it was smeared with blood. “You have to hold it against it harder.” He pulled Loras towards the bed and sat him between his legs, holding the linen against his neck for him. “It’ll stop eventually.”

Loras just nodded and leant back against him.

“So,” Renly asked, resting his head on Loras’ shoulder. “When did you decide you needed to take a razor to your face?” As far as he could see, Loras hadn’t really needed to quite yet. He supposed that it was something Loras probably wanted to do, something he felt like he ought to be doing. Renly imagined that he'd probably been like that too and he remembered being proud when he'd needed to start shaving. That feeling had only lasted a few months, he remembered, before shaving had become a chore rather than something new and exciting. Loras would probably feel the same soon, Renly reckoned, when he realised quite what a nuisance it was.

Loras shrugged. “I thought I'd start a few days ago.” He rubbed a hand over his jaw. “Willas showed me how. It’s really quite different to shave yourself than it was shaving you.”

“So you went to Willas?” Renly laughed. “I’m a little offended.” He would rather have expected Loras to come to him with such things.

Loras laughed. “I share everything with you. I thought it fair my brother’s got a turn.”

"Fair enough." Renly kissed his hair, laughing into his curls slightly. "But why are you here then? Why not bother Willas with your questions?"

"Because Willas is tired." Loras told him and Renly regretted jesting so.

"From the ride?" He asked softly.

Loras nodded. "I felt terrible when I saw that he'd come out with father looking for us." He sighed and turned his head to rest it against Renly's shoulder. "I never meant him to."

"I know you didn't." Trying to keep the handkerchief in place, Renly wrapped an arm around him tightly and kissed him. It was unusual to hear Loras admit that he regretted something and Renly supposed that his siblings were probably some of the very few people that Loras would do that for.

Renly held him there for a few moments before he thought he could get away with removing the handkerchief. Tilting Loras' head back, he inspected the cut, wiping the last of the now dried blood from it. It was tiny for a cut that had bled so much and Renly kissed it better as his nursemaids had used to do with him whenever he'd scraped his knees.

Loras just shook his head and rolled his eyes. "I'm fine Renly." He said. "Don't you dare return to your obsession with looking after me just over a tiny cut."

Renly grinned. "I won't." He promised, even though it was tempting. Biting back any further remarks on the subject, Renly laughed and rubbed a hand too over Loras’ jaw. “So, have you finished?”

“Yes, can’t you tell?”

“Um,” Renly hummed, trying not to laugh as he felt what a shoddy job Loras had done. He’d missed parts all over and now Loras' jaw was a patchwork of smooth and slightly less smooth. “Yes, of course I can tell.” He insisted, hoping Loras wouldn't see through his lies. He didn't imagine that Loras would enjoy being told that he'd made a poor job of it. Loras was so used to being perfect at everything he put his hand to.

He can’t have been very convincing, though for Loras scowled. “It was dark,” He protested. “It’s hard when it’s dark.”

Renly laughed and kissed his half-shaven cheek. “You make a very good point. I dare say that trying to shave in the dead of night, when you’ve never really done it before is a not a particularly wise idea.” He grinned. Loras seemed full of unwise ideas today. First he'd ignored what his father had told him and then, as if that hadn't been enough, he'd attempted to use a razor by candlelight, something which Renly imagined was a recipe for disaster when you had very little experience to guide you.

“You’re probably right.” Loras admitted a little reluctantly. "I should have waited until morning."

“So why?” Renly laughed. “Did your father’s scolding upset you so much that you had no choice but to take a blade to your face?”

Loras shrugged and rolled his eyes. “No. My father isn't very good at being angry. He's a bit like you in regards to that. Except he just gets very red in the face and paces around a bit until he's blown himself out."

Renly laughed. He wasn't surprised to hear that. "So what was it then? He asked. "Your inspiration to shave tonight?"

Loras shifted a little awkwardly in Renly's arms. "I wanted to look nice for you." He admitted, not looking him in the eye. " _Handsome_.”

Renly smiled, flattered. He certainly wasn't going to be the one though that told Loras that he didn't look the slightest bit different. “You always look handsome.” He told him.

Loras shrugged. "I thought you said I'd done it badly." He said, rubbing his face with the palm of his hand. He seemed a little disappointed.

"Not badly." Renly insisted. "Just not very well."

Loras raised an eyebrow. "They mean the same thing Renly."

Renly just grinned at him. He didn't bother to deny it. “Come on,” He laughed. “We'll fix it for you.” He got up from the bed and went to the trunk of things that he'd brought with him, things that Alyn hadn't got around to sorting yet courtesy of their late arrival. He rummaged around in it until he found what he was looking for- the small box that contained all his shaving materials.

Ideally, he'd have had hot water to soften the hair but Renly reckoned they could do without it. The hair on Loras' jaws was already as soft as a babe's anyway. He couldn't dispense with a lather, though, and so Renly poured a little of the water from the cup that the servants had left for him by his bedside table into his shaving bowl, adding the soap and working it into a thick foam with the brush.

“I thought you said that shaving at night was a bad idea.” Loras commented as Renly dipped a cloth into the lather and beckoned him to come sit at the table.

“It is, Loras. But I’m well practised I think you’ll find.” He brought the candle closer and tilted Loras’ face towards its light. Loras would definitely have been better, he thought, to wait until morning. Under the light Renly could see that he'd done a really poor job indeed, nicking himself in several places. tiny tiny cuts that thankfully didn't seem to have bled at all. It was quite exciting though to see Loras fail at something for once and Renly tried not to gloat as he dabbed a little of the lather onto Loras' neck and jaw. Seeing as Loras had barely had any hair that needed shaving in the first place, Renly used it sparingly.

He was very careful though as he glided the blade over Loras' jaw. He would kick himself if he hurt Loras in any way, and yet what bothered him more was how much Loras would laugh in his face if Renly ended up cutting him too. It would be unbearable, Renly thought. Thankfully, it was easy enough despite the dim light, although he had to admit that the angle did feel rather strange to him.

“You’re right,” Renly laughed as he tilted Loras head back to get under his chin. “It is very different doing it on someone else.”

Loras made to nod and Renly hurriedly whipped the blade away from his neck. "Don't do that." He warned with a laugh, shaking his head fondly. "That's how you end up with more of those pesky cuts. Or a slit throat if you're particularly unlucky."

"Alright." Loras laughed, tipping his head back for Renly again.

Renly just smiled. It didn't take him long to finish up and when he was done, he wiped the soap off of Loras' face. "All done." He said, kissing the freshly shaved skin under Loras' ear. His jaw felt a lot smoother now and Renly rubbed his cheek up against Loras' to demonstrate this.

"Stop that." Loras laughed, pulling away. "Thank you but please don't nuzzle me. I'm not a horse."

Renly just grinned at him and pulled him up onto his feet and into his arms. “You staying tonight?” He breathed, not letting himself get his hopes up.

Loras sighed. “Yes, but I shall have to rise early. My father wants to have more words with me.”

Renly laughed. "Words? Sounds serious." He pulled Loras back to bed, getting in under the covers.

Loras shrugged and joined him. "He no doubt wants to tell me for the hundredth time that I must never let Margaery stay out after dark again. He’ll forget about it soon enough.”

Renly grinned. “Would he though Loras, if he suspected what I and your brothers suspect?”

“That depends.” Loras said, eyeing him a little suspiciously. “On what you suspect.” He stretched out next to Renly, propping himself up on an elbow and waiting for his response.

“That it was Margaery on that horse and that you took the blame?” He pulled Loras closer and tucked him under his chin. "Willas' theory really."

Loras just sighed, the sound muffling into Renly's chest. “How does Willas _always_ know?” He asked despite the fact he was currently being suffocated. To Renly's surprise though, he didn't pull away as Renly imagined he would have done had it not been three weeks since they'd seen each other. He supposed that after a such a long absence he was allowed to suffocate Loras a little bit if he wanted to.

"Search me how Willas always knows." Renly said, kissing the top of his head. "To be fair, though, even I thought it was a little strange. I've never seen you ever even come close to falling."

Loras just nodded, probably guessing that speaking into Renly's chest was a little futile, and so Renly let him lift his head so that he could talk freely.

"To be fair," Loras insisted. "It was very unlucky that Margaery fell. She sat the first couple of bucks."

“So what happened?” Renly asked. "Why was she even on the horse?"

Loras shrugged. "Because she wanted to be. Father doesn't let her ride stallions."

“But you do?” That surprised Renly a little. He would have thought Loras a little more protective of Margaery than that. He supposed, though, that Margaery was very good at persuading her brother to do as she liked. She had Loras wrapped around her little finger almost as much as she did her father, and Renly knew that Loras would never have the heart to refuse her.

Loras shrugged. “She asked, so yes, I let her.” He laughed. "Don't ever mention it to my father though. He'd probably drop dead of fear, in case Margaery got a bruise or something. I don't think she or I would ever be allowed out of his sight again. Even as it is, it shall be a very long time before Margaery is allowed out alone with me.”

“You're lucky it wasn't a bad fall." Renly laughed. "It would have made lying rather difficult if she'd turned up with a broken arm."

"True." Loras conceded. He looked a little relieved as he said that and Renly imagined that Loas would never forgive himself if anything serious happened to his sister whilst she was in his care. "Luckily, she fell into a bush." He added. "A rather prickly one, but it cushioned her landing all the same."

Renly just laughed. He was having trouble imagining the ever elegant Margaery stuck in a bush. It had been rather disorientating yesterday to even see her looking a little windswept with leaves in her hair. She was like Loras- just one of those people who made a habit of looking effortlessly perfect. That said, Renly was pretty sure he was also like that. He could quite easily just roll out of bed, do nothing and still be the most handsome man in the room. Admittedly, he wouldn't look quite as impressive as he did when he donned all his fineries, but Renly imagined that it was still something of which he ought to be proud.

"Renly?" Loras' voice brought him out of his imaginings. He'd tapped Renly on the shoulder to get his attention, yawning a little.

"Yes?"

"Can we go to bed now?"

Renly just smiled at him. "If you like Loras." And with that Loras leant over to blow out the candle before settling himself once more against Renly's side, his body moulding to the shape of Renly's own. It was odd, Renly thought, but it really did seem as if Loras fitted there, like he was supposed to be there.

...........

Loras was gone by the morning and Renly, still tired from yesterday's exertions, would very much have liked to stay in bed. All the same, though, he dragged himself up from beneath the sheets and rose anyway. Whilst he could stay in his chambers all day long at home, he didn't like to do it when visiting. It didn't give a particularly good impression to his hosts and Renly liked to consider himself an expert on making a good impression. After all, wherever he went, he couldn't help but make people adore him. It was a talent Robert too had shared back in his prime and a gift that Stannis had never seen hide or hair of.

He had Alyn bring him his morning meal in his rooms but he descended as soon as he was bathed and dressed. Highgarden seemed rather busy as he made his way down the steps. Everywhere there were maids and servants coming and going, busying themselves no doubt with the last minute preparations for the tourney that would start in a couple of days.

He ran into a familiar face rather quickly, though, and Garlan stopped to greet him as they passed in one of Highgarden's many courtyards.

"Lord Renly," Garlan said, a very wide smile on his face. "Would you fancy an early morning ride?"

Renly laughed. He had been looking for Loras but he imagined that Ser Garlan wouldn't have asked him to join him had he not expressly been aware that Loras was not around. "Do you have any particular purpose in mind?" He asked.

"Ah yes, the search for a missing horse." Garlan told him with a grin. "I would say it's not worth my trouble, but alas I have been asked and who could deny the sweet creature that is my younger brother?"

Renly just laughed. "Pardon me if I'm wrong Ser Garlan, but do I detect perhaps a hint of untruthfulness there?" He didn't think he'd have referred to Loras either as _sweet_ except in jest.

"Quite possibly." Garlan admitted. "So, can I count on your company?"

"Why not." Renly agreed. He had nothing to do seeing as Loras seemed to currently be in disgrace. He couldn't deny either that Ser Garlan was good fun; he always seemed to have a smile on his face and he was as agreeable as Loras could be disagreeable.

"Willas told me yours and his theory that it was Margaery on the horse." Garlan told him as they made their way to the stables. "You're probably right. Margaery did have a guilty look about her this morning. And as everyone knows, my brother does not easily fall from his saddle."

Renly just nodded. He almost revealed that he had got a confession out of Loras last night before he remembered that it might be a little telling to admit that Loras had come to his chambers after being scolded by his father. “You're right." He said instead. "Loras does not easily fall. I have to admit that I'm very envious of how good your brother is with horses. He puts me to shame. Always has done, even when he was my squire and I was his lord.”

Garlan just laughed. “He's a brilliant rider yes, but good with horses? Don't make me laugh. You should see what he does them, it taken him less than a fortnight to ruin several good horses these past few weeks! It's driven Willas up the wall, and I'm sure you can imagine how difficult it is to do that."

It did not surprise Renly in the slightest that Loras was all too successful in frustrating his eldest brother. "What do you mean by ruin?" He asked, though, not quite understanding what Garlan meant.

“I'll show you.” Garlan said laughing. He went to a stable door and called one of the stable boys over and gestured for a white mare to be saddled up.

“This is Loras' latest favourite, aside from that damned sand steed we're about to hunt down," he explained. “And it's the one he'll ride in the tourney if we are unsuccessful today. Willas bred her and she's beautiful. Young, a little headstrong, very like her rider actually."

"And has Loras ruined her?" Renly asked as the stable boy led her out, smiling to himself. He had very much to agree with Garlan's assessment of Loras. Beautiful, young and a little headstrong described Loras rather well, Renly thought.

"He shall tell you he hasn't ruined her in the slightest, but I'll show you what he does to them." He gestured for the stable boy to tack up Renly's horse and once they were both mounted, they set off at a walk, Renly wondering what Garlan was trying to show him. The mare Garlan was riding seemed as quiet as a lamb, not fighting the bit and altogether quite well behaved.

Garlan seemed to notice his confusion. “Wait. I'll get to what I'm trying to show you.”

They had reached the training yard now and Garlan turned to him. “Now watch.”

Renly watched him curiously.

“I'd advise you to hold onto your reins. Just in case.”

The mare was perfectly well behaved until they reached the lists. Several lances were scattered about off to the side and this was where Renly knew every knight in Highgarden would have been practising their tilts day in day out in the run up to the tourney. It seemed to be here that Garlan wished to show Renly something and indeed, by the time they'd got within a few feet, the mare Garlan was on was snorting, shaking her head almost agitatedly. Within a few seconds, she had broken into a gallop, charging wildly to the other end as she would be ridden in a joust. She didn't stop when she reached the other end and it took Garlan turning her in a circle to slow her to a trot and finally to a walk.

Renly laughed. “I see what you mean.”

“Indeed.” Garlan grinned. “It only takes two weeks it seems before he has them galloping at the smell of this place.”

Renly just laughed. He wasn't surprised in the slightest. He had always been told that horses could sense the emotions of their rider and he didn't like to think how excited Loras would get before his tilt. He dared say that the horses he rode learnt to share that excitement rather quickly.

“Can you not control her if you really tried?” He asked.

“Loras could.” Garlan said laughing. “The other day, he forced this one to walk round the lists at the slowest pace possible just to try and prove to Willas that he hadn't ruined her."

"And did he manage it?"

"Oh yes." Garlan told him. "She pulled at the bit and thrashed her tail a lot, but she did it. Much to Loras' smug satisfaction.”

Renly laughed. “But she'll do it for nobody else?”

“Alas no.” Garlan smiled. “She would have done for Willas before his accident. As for everyone else, they'll be lucky if they can make her stop at the other end. Of course for Loras they pull up as quietly as lambs, but not so for us mere mortals.”

“I'm not surprised Willas thinks that he's ruined her then." Renly agreed, suddenly glad that his own horse was so well behaved. It would not do for a lord of his standing to suddenly be taken off with.

“That's not the worst of it though." Garlan said with a laugh as they reached the gates of Highgarden. "Recently he's taken to deliberately arranging it so that people Loras doesn't particularly like end up riding her. He'll ride along behind them, calm as anything and then gloat as the horse takes off with them.”

Renly had to laugh. He could well believe it. He had never much fancied getting on Loras' bad side. He still remembered all too well quite how venomous Loras had been to Penrose whenever he'd been in a mood.

“Ser Tanton was his first victim," Garlan told him gravely. "-chosen because he couldn't keep his hands to himself around Margaery at dinner the other day. My father's steward was next, all because he tried to scold Loras like the insolent child he is when he talked back to him. I dare say our father may be on his list too now that he'll have forbidden Loras from taking Margaery anywhere."

Renly sighed. He supposed he should be a little ashamed to have had a hand in raising Loras. “Has Loras always been so insolent.” He asked, wishing he had succeeded a little more in teaching Loras both some restraint and some manners whilst he'd been at Storm's End.

“Always.” Garlan said. “And yet he's always been our father's favourite. Perfect in every way it seems, good with a sword, good on a horse and with all the ambition Willas and I lacked. I do like to think that Willas was the better rider though. Before what happened with that Dornish prince that is.”

“Such a shame” Renly said, meaning it too. “I was much saddened when I heard.”

Garlan sighed, shrugging atop his horse. “My father wanted another Leo Longthorn and what he got was a crippled heir. Tis no matter I guess. Willas likes his books and his animals, and my father got his Leo Longthorn in Loras.”

That made Renly feel a little proud and yet he thought it a little discourteous to show it when they were talking so of Willas' injury. It was not the moment to feel a little smug about the boy that had been his squire and who was still his lover. “Loras was distraught when he heard.” Renly told Garlan instead. "To this day I don't think I've seen him so distressed." He sighed as he cast his mind back all those years, back to when Loras had been a mere slip of a thing that Renly had been able to scoop up into his arms as if he'd been a kitten. He remembered Loras' tears all too well, and the heartbreaking way he'd doggedly walked up to the rookery everyday to hear news of his eldest brother's condition.

Garlan nodded. “I can imagine. I had half a mind to come and console him, I thought he would be so upset. But alas, I decided Willas needed me more." He laughed. "I'm sure nobody needs to tell you this but say what you like about my younger brother, nobody can deny that he's got his heart in the right place.”

“If he likes you.” Renly corrected, laughing. “If he doesn't then... Well let's just say he can be a little prickly.”

Garlan laughed, a wide smile coming to his face. “Yes true. My brother does not stand for mediocrity and he shall not allow it in his affections either. If he hates, then he truly hates. He shall loathe, and plot, and whisper terrible things about them in Margaery's ear." He paused then, giving Renly a smile that could mean anything. "But if he loves, then he'll love just as fiercely.

Renly did not need to be told that, but he smiled to himself all the same at Garlan's words. He supposed he should count himself lucky that he was one of the few people that Loras deemed worthy of his affection. He imagined that such people were very few and very far between, and it was flattering to think too that even out of all of those dear to Loras, that he was probably the one Loras loved best.


	89. Chapter 89

Renly and Garlan found the horse, and as soon as they were back and had had a groom take it to the stables, they set off in search of Loras. They were hopeful that for once in his life, Loras might actually be grateful.

They found him easily, sat rather glumly with Margaery on the swing that Mace Tyrell had had made for their mother. With their matching solemn expressions, they looked even more alike than usual somehow and Renly had to think that they resembled a pair of dolls, sat as they were in exactly the same position, their arms crossed rather miserably across their chests. It seemed quite likely that their father had given them a good telling off that morning.

Willas was sat on a nearby bench and he noticed Renly and Garlan approach before his siblings did. "Did you find it?" He asked, making Loras' glum face light up when he looked up and saw them.

"Did you?" Loras repeated before they had a chance to answer, standing and looking hopeful. "Say you did."

"We did." Garlan confirmed with a grin. "So are you going to thank lord Renly and I or not?"

"Of course I am." Loras came forward to embrace his brother. He paused when he reached Renly, though and sort of patted him awkwardly on the shoulder in what was almost a one-armed embrace. It was odd to have Loras touch him so stiffly, Renly found; he wasn't used to any of Loras' touches being fleeting or awkward, quite the opposite in face. All the same, he supposed that Loras could hardly have embraced him as he had Garlan. It would have hardly been proper.

"Thank you." Loras smiled, and his smile was so bright that any of the lingering awkwardness melted away. "Where did you find it?"

“In a nearby village.” Garlan laughed. “A peasant woman found it roaming around yesterday evening. We had to buy it back.”

“How much for?” Loras asked, returning to sitting beside his sister and putting an arm around her this time. He threw a glance in Renly's direction as he did that, smirking a little as if he suspected that inside, Renly was seething slightly with jealousy at the affectionate gesture that wasn't being bestowed on him. If that was what Loras was suspecting, Renly would have had to admit that he was quite right.

“Almost nothing.” Garlan told him, sitting down beside Willas. “Though I dare say that it was more than what that woman’s husband earns in a year.”

That was true, Renly suspected. It was hard to put a price on the horse but it was certainly worth more than the fifteen gold dragons that they’d paid the woman for her trouble. All the same, she’d stared at the money in her hand as if it had been a veritable fortune that Garlan had given her. It had been pitiful really.

“Well, I'm grateful.” Loras told them. "I really am. And when I win the tourney on him, I shall perhaps give you two a little smidgen of the credit."

"Well that's mighty generous of you." Garlan laughed, rolling his eyes at Loras' confidence. "But what about you two? I see father hasn’t quite murdered you yet?”

“No.” Loras muttered, tightening his grip on Margaery. “We’re just not to leave Highgarden.”

“For how long?” Renly asked, sitting down beside Willas and Garlan. There would have been room for him on the swing next to Loras and Margaery but he thought he ought to try and prove that he had at least a little self restraint, that he could cope with not being by Loras' side every minute of every day.

“He didn’t say how long.” Margaery laughed. “But it’s the tourney tomorrow, and the day after that it’s the ball and my name day. He shan't sulk for that. And besides, why should we _want_ to leave Highgarden in the first place when there's so much to amuse us here?”

“True.” Loras mused. “But still. It’s not fair.”

Renly just bit back his laughter. He didn't think Loras could sound any more like a spoilt insolent child if he tried. Garlan evidently felt the same, for a wide smile broke out over his face.

“What?” Garlan mocked, standing up to ruffle Loras' hair. “Should knights be exempt from having to follow their father’s rules or something?”

Loras narrowed his eyes. “Yes.”

Garlan just grinned. “I dare say Lord Renly here was too kind to you. You've forgotten your place now, forgotten that you're still nothing but a little boy who needs taking down a peg or two occasionally.” He winked at Margaery. "Perhaps I should enter tomorrow, and I'll crown our sister queen of love and beauty instead of you."

Loras just scowled at him. This seemed to please Garlan though, and his grin just widened as he sat down next to Loras and Margaery on the swing, slinging an arm around Loras' shoulders in what was evidently the most patronising way he could manage. "You know Loras?" he said, patting him condescendingly on the shoulder. "I was demonstrating to lord Renly this morning how you’ve ruined that mare of Willas’."

“For the last time,” Loras mumbled, shifting closer to Margaery and away from Garlan. “I haven’t ruined her. I have improved her.”

“Improved is she?” Garlan just laughed. “Dream on Loras.”

Loras just shrugged and a sly smile came to his face that told Renly immediately that he was plotting. "Perhaps I am dreaming." He admitted dryly. "But, whilst we’re on the subject of improving, I hear from a very reliable source that you were in need of a little bit of improvement yourself a few years ago.”

Garlan looked genuinely confused. “I was?”

Renly just tried to stop himself grinning. He knew where this was going and yet he did his best to keep an innocently ignorant look on his face. He wished to be nothing more than an observer in this, a witness to Garlan's humiliation rather than someone who aided Loras in it. He quite enjoyed the fact that he got on rather well with Garlan and he didn't want that to change any time soon.

“Tell me,” Loras laughed, putting his own arm around Garlan's shoulders. “Was Leonette pleased with the skills the Highgarden whores taught you for the bedchamber?”

Garlan just blanched. Whatever he had been expecting Loras to say, it evidently hadn't been that. "What ever do you mean?" He stammered a little, his cheeks turning slowly from white to a deep pink. "I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about."

Loras smiled slyly again. "Yes you do. Her name was Violet remember?"

Garlan just cringed and he turned speechless to Willas. “You promised me you’d never tell.” He hissed, making both Loras and Margaery burst out in laughter.

"I didn't." Willas insisted. He too though looked a little amused. Renly just had to raise his eyebrow at his involvement. He had never thought of Willas as someone who would have aided Garlan in such a venture. He always seemed so sensible, so proper, not like the type of brother who would agree to hide any secret brothel visits from the rest of his siblings.

“Oh don't blame Willas.” Loras laughed. “He hasn’t said a word."

"Oh?" Garlan laughed. "Then how do you claim to know this, dear brother? For all we know, you might be making it all up!"

Margaery just laughed, leaning over Loras to pat Garlan mockingly on the arm. "That would have worked Garlan," she smiled. "-until you accused Willas of telling on you just now. That may have given it away a little."

"And anyway," Loras added, smirking as Garlan just ran a hand helplessly through his hair. His beard hid the most of his face "I heard it straight from the horse's mouth."

“Been visiting prostitutes have we Loras?” Garlan grinned, evidently pleased for an opportunity to shift the attention away from himself. "Did she help you too?"

Loras just shrugged nonchalantly. He obviously didn’t care for the accusation. He didn't need to either, Renly thought to himself a little smugly. He knew first hand that Loras certainly didn't need any help with his skills between the sheets. That said, he supposed also that he and Loras could quite possibly be completely useless in bed and that neither of them would ever know it due to their lack of anything to really compare it to. He liked to think, though, that both Loras and he were very good at what they did.

"So have we been visiting prostitutes or haven't we?" Garlan laughed, raising an eyebrow.

"Just stop being nosy." Loras smirked. "And no I haven't. Your dearest Violet is a favourite of Renly's brother."

Garlan whipped his head round in surprise. " _You?!_ " Garlan laughed, gesturing to Renly. "You're involved in this too? I feel a little betrayed now. You seemed so innocent on our morning ride."

Renly just laughed. "I wasn't the one who brought it up." He pointed out. "But pray tell me, was Leonette impressed?"

Garlan grinned widely, nodding his head. "You have no idea how impressed lord Renly. But even so, this was never supposed to come out." He nudged Loras hard in the ribs. "I'll have my revenge on you two, I promise you."

Loras just raised a scathing eyebrow. "And how exactly are you going to do that?" He scoffed. "Are you going to convince me to brush my hair before the feast again?"

Garlan laughed. "I'm sure I'll think of something."

.............

"Do you think your brother meant that?" Renly asked as Loras dragged him to the stables to see his horse in the flesh. "About getting revenge?" To him, Garlan just didn't seem like the sort to try and get revenge. Loras was, Margaery was, even with her sweet smiles, but Garlan just seemed too nice for that sort of thing.

"I doubt it," Loras laughed. "Garlan's harmless."

"Really? How harmless?"

"Very harmless." Loras told him, slipping his hand into Renly's as soon as he was sure there was nobody else around. "In fact, he's almost as harmless as you."

"What do you mean, almost as harmless as me?" Renly laughed. "Well that's unkind."

"Why is that unkind? It means you're kind, and gentle, and wonderful, an-"

"And that you want me to take you to bed as soon as we're done here?" Renly suggested. That was always the only reason why Loras was ever so overtly complimentary. He was only like that when he wanted something.

"That too." Loras admitted.

"I thought I sensed an agenda." Renly laughed. He wasn't surprised either. It had been three weeks since the two of them had made love. He'd been more surprised last night in fact when Loras hadn't immediately jumped on top of him when he'd come through the door. It was a bit disappointing now that Loras was so insistent on seeing the damned horse rather than just cutting to the chase. "So why are we here again?" He asked, biting back a sigh. "I've already told you that the horse is fine. Garlan checked it over this morning."

"So?" Loras opened the door to the horse's stall and began lifting up its feet in turn.

"Don't you trust his judgement?"

"No." Loras said simply, putting down its feet and leading the animal out. He then bent down again to check its legs. He was evidently looking for any damage it might have sustained when it bucked Margaery, but all Renly could think about was that Loras was choosing to run his hands up and down a horse's legs rather than his own.

He just sighed, though, and held his tongue as Loras finished up.

"Does it look normal?" Loras asked, leading it around in a circle. "Its gait? Is it normal?"

"Yes?" Renly told him. "But Garlan already asked me that this morning. If I was wrong then, I'll probably be wrong now too."

Loras sighed and handed him the reins. "You walk it then and I'll watch."

Dutifully, Renly walked the horse around the yard. He did have to admit that it was a majestic beast. He was still surprised, though, that Loras deigned to ride anything that Oberyn Martell had given to Willas. He supposed that that was proof of quite how much he wanted to win this upcoming tourney. Most likely, Loras would stoop to any level to increase his chances, not that Loras would ever admit that there was any luck involved.

"Can you trot it too?" Loras asked, once Renly had walked it in several circles.

"What?"

"Run with it."

"You want me to run with the horse?" Renly clarified, staring a little at Loras in surprise. He was the lord of Storm's End, brother to the king and on the small council, and Loras wanted him to run alongside a horse. There was no way he would do such a thing.

"Yes." Loras said, his brow furrowing. "I want you to run with the horse. Is that a problem?"

Renly just sighed. "Fine," he agreed. He supposed it was naive of him to ever have thought that he'd be able to refuse something Loras asked of him, no matter how stupid it made him look. Reluctantly, he broke into a bit of a run. Loras would have quite easily been able to find a stable boy to do this and yet Renly imagined that Loras probably enjoyed making a little bit of a fool of him. The only other explanation, Renly supposed, was that Loras thought he was getting fat and that this was his attempt to prevent that. He did wonder sometimes whether Loras looked at Robert and had to miserably conclude that he was staring at his future.

"Well you have to run a little faster than that." Loras shouted from the other end of the yard. "I need it to trot."

"Fine, fine," Renly mumbled to himself. He ran a little faster, hoping that nobody happened to be looking out of Highgarden's windows at that time. Guests had been arriving no doubt all afternoon, and Renly didn't like to think of the Reach lords all pointing out of the window and laughing at him.

"Is it alright?" Renly asked as soon as Loras gestured for him to stop, handing the lead rope to Loras.

"Yes it's fine." Loras said matter-of-factly, as if there had never been any doubt as to this. He led the horse back into the stall and shut it in. "Now come, I want you." He wrapped his hand around Renly's wrist and tugged him back onto the yard.

Renly just laughed and let Loras drag him along. “Patience, Loras. I think it's best that we walk back to my chambers like normal civilised men, not like animals in heat.” He imagined that they were going to get some odd stares indeed if Loras didn't slow down a little bit.

“Patience?” Loras smirked. “You know full well that I don’t have any.”

"Fine." Renly laughed. "Well then let's walk normally back to my chambers then, but at a slightly quicker pace? Does that sound like a compromise?"

Loras shrugged. "Your chambers are far." He tugged one of the doors open on the yard, smirking at him. "And I just told you I don't have any patience."

Renly just laughed, shaking his head a little fondly. It was a barn that Loras had opened the door of, and Renly had to smile at the ridiculousness of it. “You want a tumble in the hay?” Renly asked as sweetly as he could, leaning against the door and laughing. Indeed, there was a lot of hay to choose from. It was stacked up in bales, in heaps on the floor. If that's what Loras wanted, he had surely come to the right place.

Loras just grinned back at him. "Why not?" He asked, closing the door behind them and taking a step towards him.

“Well here you go.” Renly pushed him head-first into a pile of it.

Loras was evidently in a very good mood with him as he didn’t even scowl at him once he’d swivelled round, sat down still in the hay. “That is not what I meant Renly.” He said. His tone was unimpressed but Renly found that he just couldn't take Loras seriously when he had bits of straw sticking out of his hair.

“Is this what you meant then?” Renly grinned and leant down, stuffing a handful of hay down Loras' shirt.

“Not pleasant.” Loras laughed, trying to squirm away. Renly held him firm, though, and did his best to push yet more hay down his neck. They were far too old for this and yet Renly couldn't resist. It was a little enjoyable to see Loras looking less than immaculate for once, and far far too enjoyable to get to scramble around on top of Loras in a room full of hay.

Loras, however, didn't seem to want to take this lying down, and in retaliation he grabbed a fistful himself and shoved it down Renly’s breeches as best he could. "See," he smirked. "Two can play at this game." He looked all too pleased with himself, and his smirk only grew as he clambered on top of Renly, settling himself on his thighs.

“Not fair.” Renly laughed. “There are places that should not be included in this game, and down my breeches is one of them. It itches.”

“Well.” Loras said gravely. “I suppose you shall have to take them off Renly."

Renly nodded along. "I suppose I shall have to." He couldn't keep his face as straight as Loras' though, and he couldn't help the grin spreading across his face.

"Yes," Loras agreed, and without further ado, he pulled the laces out of Renly’s breeches and tugged them down, brushing the pieces of hay away. "Better?" He asked with a smile.

"Much better." Renly sighed, shutting his eyes and letting Loras do what he wanted. He didn't know why he had ever doubted the fact that Loras was good at this earlier. Loras' mouth was warm and his tongue wet, and Renly imagined he could have quite happily stayed there underneath him forever, regardless of the way the hay was prickling him through his clothes. It had been so long too perhaps that even the simplest of gestures seemed to thrill him, and he shut his eyes in bliss when every now and then, Loras would slide a hand up his doublet and across his chest. His touch was achingly familiar, soothing somehow at the same time that it was exciting.

It wasn't long, though, before he'd flipped Loras over, pinning him down as he pulled Loras' own breeches down. "Come here," he laughed, unbuttoning Loras' doublet a little and pressing a kiss to his chest. "Can I have you now?" He breathed. "If I ask nicely?"

Loras just nodded. "Yeah, you can." He tugged his breeches a little further down. "In fact, please do. Now preferably."

Renly just nodded a little breathlessly. He didn't argue and soon Loras was panting underneath him, half sunken into the hay with his legs wrapped tightly around Renly's waist.

Both him and Loras looked up as the door creaked open and Renly just froze, his blood running cold suddenly in his veins even whilst Loras was hot and sticky underneath him.

Willas looked as embarrassed as Renly felt, though. He was desperately trying to shuffle away but his game leg wouldn’t allow much fast movement. He'd dropped his cane too in shock and Renly didn't think he'd ever felt so terrible at the sight of him wobbling towards the door. Not only had he no doubt horrified Willas by allowing him to see him in the midst of violating his youngest brother, but he'd also caused the poor man to have to stumble around helplessly on his twisted limb.

"There's an explanation." Renly insisted hurriedly. "Really there is!"

Loras just burst into laughter at that, and Renly just stared at him in disbelief. He couldn't see anything at all funny about the situation, only embarrassment and humiliation. Visions were flashing through his mind of how Mace Tyrell would throw him forcefully out of Highgarden once he was told, how Garlan would narrow his eyes at him every time their paths crossed.

Loras didn't seem bothered, though. He just nudged Renly off him. "Wait here," he said breathlessly, lacing his breeches up in one fluid motion. Renly wished, though, that he'd buttoned his shirt up too, and he couldn't bear to look as Loras ran after his eldest brother, half dressed and with his hair in such disarray that there could be no doubt as to what he'd just been engaged in.

“Willas.” Renly heard him say, and he was stunned to hear amusement in his tone. “Shall I help you with that door?”

The door creaked shut after that and Renly didn't know how to feel or what to do when Loras returned to his side. He just remained helplessly on the floor until Loras pulled him to his feet and laced up his breeches for him.

"I think the mood is gone," Loras laughed once he'd succeeded in getting Renly to stand. "Don't you think?"

Renly just cringed inwardly. "I don't see how you can be so cheerful when that just happened?" He hissed. " _How?_ "

Loras shrugged, finishing with Renly's breeches and standing up straight to button his doublet back up for him too. "Does it really matter?" He asked. "It's only Willas."

" _Only Willas?_ " Renly just stared at him. "Your eldest brother has just found out you sleep with men, and you ask what does it matter? What is wrong with you?"

There was a long pause where Loras was evidently pondering what to say to that. Eventually, he sighed deeply. "Renly," he started, taking his hands in his own and drawing him close. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I imagine that Willas has probably known I sleep with men for a long time now."

"How can you say that?" Renly asked in disbelief. "You promised me you'd never tell anyone."

"And I haven't." Loras soothed. "But it's Willas, Renly. He probably knew I wanted to sleep with you before _you_ knew I wanted to sleep with you."

Renly just ran a hand through his hair. "All right," he sighed. "All right." The rational part of him was indeed beginning to agree with Loras. Whatever Willas thought of what he'd seen, Renly imagined that he would probably at least keep it to himself. He would still have to cope with the shame of knowing that Willas knew, but he supposed there was no way round that now. He would just have to deal with it and hope he indeed would keep as quiet about it as Loras seemed to expect he would.

Loras smiled up at him. "Now calm down. Willas shan't tell anyone, there is a tourney tomorrow that you shall get to watch me win, and I love you. Everything is fine."

"You sure?" Renly asked. Loras made everything sound so simple, and sometimes he wished he could see the world like that. He imagined indeed that life would be a lot easier if he were more like Loras. He would merely do what he liked and not even spare a thought as to what others thought of him.

"Yes." Loras said, raising an eyebrow as if daring Renly to argue with that. "One thing, though." He added.

"What?" Renly sighed.

"I'm curious," Loras smirked. "What was your explanation going to be to Willas as to why you had me on the floor with my legs around your waist?"

"Er," Renly laughed a little sheepishly. "That we fell over maybe?" In truth, he hadn't actually thought about what his excuse was going to be. He had just known that he needed to find one, at any cost really. Perhaps he still did.

"That we fell over?" Loras' eyebrow shot up once more.

"Or maybe that you'd hurt your back and I was helping you?"

"You know what, Renly." Loras said as guided Renly towards a bale of hay and sat him down. "I think you need to give those explanations a bit of thought. Somehow, they're not very believable." Laughing, he sat down at Renly's feet, leaning back against his shins and nudging him pointedly.

"Quite possibly." Renly agreed reluctantly, and whilst he wanted nothing more than to return to his chambers and preferably never come out again, he responded to Loras' insistent nudging and leant down to begin picking out the bits of straw from Loras' hair. Regardless of how ashamed he felt, Renly knew that there was no point even considering not doing something that Loras wanted him to do.


	90. Chapter 90

The morning of the tourney dawned bright and sunny, and despite the fact that a large part of Renly wanted to stay curled up under his covers and never face the world again, namely Willas, he let Loras pull him out of bed in good time to get ready. After all, every lord and lady of the Reach would be in attendance, not to mention all the knights that would have travelled from far and wide to take part, and Renly really needed to look his best.

"It will be fine." Loras insisted as Renly began to dress. "Really it will Renly. I promise."

"But it won't." Renly sighed, wishing he could trust the promise Loras had just made him. "Your brother is going to refuse to speak to me ever again." No matter how much he'd tried to put the incident from his mind, he could no nothing but relive it all over again. Every time he shut his eyes he could still see poor Willas stumbling around at the sight of them.

Loras just rolled his eyes. "He won't refuse to speak to you, but maybe I'll tell him to if you won't forget about it." He looped his arms around Renly's waist and leant his head on Renly's shoulder as he often liked to do. "Now, please, can we not talk any more of this?" He just about waited until Renly was fully dressed before he then ushered him out of the room, evidently eager to head down to the tourney ground without discussing yesterday any further.

He led them an odd way down from Renly's chambers and Renly was just beginning to get a little suspicious when a door opened in front of them and a man shuffled out. It was only then that Renly realised why this part of the castle looked so familiar. It was where Loras' own chambers and his siblings' were.

"Willas," Loras laughed, fake surprise etched onto his forehead. "What a surprise to see you here. And how convenient too. You see Willas, I think I left something upstairs and you can accompany lord Renly down to the tourney ground for me whilst I go back for it."

Willas just blinked as Renly felt himself turn a violent shade of pink. There was nothing sincere about the way Loras had just spoken, but Renly didn't think Loras cared. Even now, he was grinning widely at him, looking so innocent that Renly knew he'd planned this all. Had he not had a witness, he might have turned and cursed him for it.

Willas recovered more quickly. "Of course I can Loras," he smiled. It was a convincing smile too, and if Renly hadn't known better, he would have thought that nothing at all odd had passed between them and Willas yesterday evening.

Renly just twisted awkwardly to face Loras. "What did you leave?" he asked a little desperately. He didn't know what he would begin to say if left alone with Willas.

Loras' brow furrowed. "Just something," he answered innocently.

"And where did you leave it?" Renly pressed, panic now in his voice.

Loras shrugged. "Just somewhere." And with that, he turned on his heel, grinning brightly at the two of them before making his way back the way he had come.

Renly could have murdered him on the spot. He managed to refrain though, and did the only thing he could do, turning back to Willas with more reluctance than he'd ever felt.

"It's going to be a pleasant day," Renly said feebly, gesturing out of the window. The sun was indeed bright, but Renly felt none of its warmth, his blood instead running cold even beneath his flushed cheeks.

Willas murmured his agreement.

They walked in silence until they reached the end of the corridor, and whether it was because of Renly's embarrassment or due to the slow pace at which Willas walked, Renly didn't think that any corridor had ever felt longer. Eventually, he could bear it no more. He had to say something.

"Willas," he ventured anxiously. "I feel I should apologise."

"Whatever for lord Renly?"

"For yesterday." Renly muttered as he duly felt his ears turn pink too with the shame of such an admission. "I had no right to be doing what you saw."

Willas paused at that, his gait slowing even more as he mulled over what Renly had said. "Renly," he said, turning slightly to look at him and taking Renly a little by surprise by addressing him so informally. "I dare say you have whatever rights Loras gives you."

Renly just nodded a little hesistantly. He was almost certain that Willas' outrage was merely slow in coming, and yet Loras' brother was silent as they reached the stairs. It seemed that he had said all that he wanted to say. 

.......

The tourney grounds had been set up just a little outside Highgarden's gates and it was a sea of colour with tents of all colours lined up behind the lists. As astonishingly accepting as he had been, Renly was more than happy to part ways with Willas and set off in search of his own tent He found it easily and was pleased to see that his squire had evidently been busy for some time that morning. All his armour was laid out neatly inside and Alyn was in the midst of polishing his helm for what must have been the third time that day.

He was especially cheerful, and they chatted aimiably as Alyn dressed him for the day, discussing the various competitors and their relative merits. With no kingsguard present, it seemed fairly evident to both of them that it would be either Loras, Beric Dondarrion, or perhaps Lothor Brune who took the victory. 

Alyn was just fastening Renly's gorget and telling him of how much he desired to see the Kingslayer ride again when Ser Guyard pulled back the tent flap a little and stuck his head through.

"Lord Renly," he laughed. "There's somebody here to see you." He seemed in high spirits, which was no surprise. Ser Guyard had been in a good mood for the past week and though he hadn't voiced it out loud, Renly imagined that he thought himself capable of winning the tourney.

"Well send them in." Renly said a little warily. He was almost sure it would be Loras and he didn't want to accuse Loras of leaving him alone with Willas in the presence of his squire. Whilst Alyn may have been aware of the fact that he and Loras shared quarters, Renly didn't think he was quite ready to start bickering with Loras in front of him yet.

To his surprise, though, it wasn't Loras at all and Renly just had to grin as a familiarly weathered face appeared at the door of the tent.

"Penrose," Renly exclaimed. "What brings you here?"

"I had business at Blackhaven my lord, and as Lord Beric invited us to make the short trip here with him, it seemed a shame not to." He looked just as Renly remembered him to and Renly could do nothing but grin at him. It vaguely occurred to him to ask who Penrose had left in charge of Storm's End, but he imagined that Penrose would have found somebody reliable enough. He had always been rather sensible like that.

"Well, I'm glad you made the journey Penrose," Renly said. 

Penrose smiled at that, and he went through the obligatory conversation they always had about the affairs of Storm's End before they together made their way to their seats. Renly and his guard had been given seats in a very honoured position, just behind Lord Mace and his family. He had to frown, though, when he saw that Penrose was heading to the other end of the lists. He supposed that it was no surprise that Penrose and his escort had been seated further away, but it was something he would not stand for.

"You're sitting with me," Renly told him firmly. There would be no question about it. 

Penrose raised an eyebrow, but didn't question him, following him to the seats Renly had been given. The rest of Renly's men were already seated, and whilst the herald hadn't even announced the beginning of the tournament yet, the men were getting out the money bags to place bets with one another regardless. Their coins jingled loudly even over the chatter and it was a noise that somehow made Renly smile. The sound of money being counted out somehow brought him fond memories.

"Shall you be betting Renly?" Penrose inquired, settling into his seat.

Renly grinned. "Perhaps. I don't know if anybody would bet against me." It was true, Loras was the favourite to win by far and he didn't imagine that anyone would want to lay too much money down at all in betting that he wouldn't be the victor.

Penrose laughed. "I imagine I could guess who you'd be betting on?"

"Probably," Renly admitted, rolling his eyes. He couldn't even find it himself to deny it. He supposed he shouldn't have to pretend either. Anyone sound of mind would be betting on Loras to emerge the victor today. It was a victory almost set in stone.

Penrose just laughed, though, smiling until he evidently saw something Renly didn't.

"What are you doing here?" A voice interrupted them and Renly turned to face what he recognised to be Loras.

"Why are you here?" Loras repeated scathingly. He didn't sound pleased at all, and there was such a deep scowl on his face that Renly feared it might be permanent. He was flanked by Garlan, and he looked as amused as Loras looked displeased. Neither of them were armoured and whilst Renly knew Garlan not to be competing, he was suprised that Loras wasn't already ready. 

"I believe I was invited Ser Loras," Penrose said dryly. His tone was a little mocking and Renly knew that he was only using Loras' title to wind him up. "As were all the lords of the Stormlands and their families."

Loras raised a sceptical eyebrow. "That didn't mean you _had_ to come." He all but whined. He'd crossed his arms and was still scowling. He evidently didn't think that Penrose belonged at the tourney and ball that was to be for his precious sister's name day.

Renly raised his own eyebrow and so did Garlan. Renly would tolerate Loras' insolence up to an extent, but he had perhaps crossed a line here.

Garlan spoke first, though. "Please excuse my little brother." He laughed. "He was never taught any manners you see."

"That's quite all right," Penrose smiled. He turned to Loras. "In fact Ser Loras, we were just talking about you. Lord Renly was fearing that he could find nobody to place a bet against you." 

"Is that so?" Garlan grinned at that as if his name day had come early. "Well Lord Renly, I'll take that bet. One hundred golds shall we say?" He got out his money bag and began counting out coins, evidently checking how much money he had on his person.

"You're more stupid than I thought." Loras snapped, looking on. 

"Well shall we then Garlan?" Renly laughed, simply choosing to ignore Loras. "I thought you were seeking revenge on me, though, and here you are virtually handing me one hundred golds?" 

"A fair price to irritate one's brother no?"

Renly just had to laugh. He agreed too. He thought that he would easily pay one hundred gold dragons to make Stannis scowl as Loras was doing now. "Done." he said, smiling at Garlan. "If he wins, you owe me a hundred golds, and if he doesn't..." He raised his money bag in a salute to Garlan. "Your next visit to the Highgarden brothel is on me."

"You have yourself an agreement lord Renly," Garlan grinned, winking at him. And with that, he patted Loras on the shoulder and went on his way.

"Better get yourself dressed Loras," Renly laughed, giving him a nudge in the direction his brother had just walked in.

"In a while. I wanted to show you something." Loras said.

This was evidently the reason he'd sought him out in the first place, Renly thought, before the sighting of Penrose had sidetracked him. He was almost tempted to say no, just to pay Loras back for the horror he had forced him to endure earlier, but Loras looked so excited at the idea of whatever it was he had to show him that he didn't have the heart to go through with it. 

"Of course." He said as he got to his feet and followed Loras down towards the tents. Like all of the men in Reny's guard, Loras had that spring in his step, that confidence in his gait that told Renly just quite how sure Loras was that he was going to win this tourney. Unlike Renly's men, though, Renly thought that Loras' hopes probably weren't misplaced.

"So what is it you want to show me?" Renly asked, as they neared Loras' tent, a little hopeful. They hadn't got around to finishing what Willas had interrupted and he wouldn't be surprised if this was what Loras wanted now. He wished, though, that Loras hadn't waited until Alyn had finished preparing him for the day. His metal plate was heavy and it would be difficult and time-consuming even to have a quick fumble down each other's breeches.

"I want to show you my armour," Loras told him excitedly. "I wanted you to admire it before everyone else does."

Renly laughed and hushed his voice even there was nobody around. "You know, I was expecting to be admiring what you might have under the armour, but this is fine as well."

Loras rolled his eyes. "You know Renly, it wasn't me who hid himself under the bedclothes yesterday and refused to come out even for me."

Renly didn't have anything to say back to that. It was indeed true that he'd done exactly that yesterday evening. Since perhaps the first time since Loras had been old enough for him to lust after, he'd had absolutely no desire to even touch him last night, convinced somehow that Willas was waiting behind the door to catch them at it again, even despite the fact that the door had been locked and that WIllas too would never have managed the stairs up to Renly's chambers. Instead, he'd curled up in bed and wished he didn't exist, closing his ears whenever Loras tried to talk sense into him. Eventually, he'd consented to Loras joining him in bed, but only when Loras agreed to keep his clothes on just in case somebody walked in on them. Needless to say, Loras hadn't been all that impressed.

"True," he laughed a little sheepishly. "But it has been three weeks after all. I've changed my mind."

"Of course you have." Loras said matter-of-factly as he ducked into his tent. "I knew speaking to Willas would help."

" _Don't you even suggest that_." Renly protested, even as he followed him in. "I've never been more embarrassed in my life. I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me Loras. You're lucky I'm still speaking to you after what you made me do this morning. You're lucky I don't write to Robert right now and tell him you're guilty of high treason."

"Am I?" Loras smirked. "Well in which case you shan't be interested in what I've got underneath my armour shall you now?"

"No I shall not," Renly began to lie. The words, however, died in his throat as he saw the armour that Tommas Fossoway had no doubt lain out there, the armour that Loras wanted to show him. He didn't think he'd seen anything so beautiful in his life, except perhaps the man who was about to put it on. The plate was a burnished gold, engraved with large roses centred around emeralds. He had a cape embroidered in the same pattern too and Renly just took it in his hands to admire it, sighing in appreciation as he felt how soft the fabric was under his hands.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Loras breathed. "I thought it would be nice to have a different set of armour for each tourney. Don't you think that that's a marvellous idea?"

Renly just nodded. "It is." He knew that Stannis would be frothing at the mouth if he'd just heard him agree with that, but it truly was a marvellous idea. And thinking on his own armour now, Renly couldn't help but feel a little ashamed of it. He'd always thought it rather glorious, but it paled in comparison to what was laid out before him. "Where did you get it?" He asked, making a instantaneous decision that he would have himself some new armour made as soon as possible, at whichever armourers Loras had had this made.

"In King's Landing." Loras told him. "I commissioned it a while back, but the design was so intricate that it took some time."

"It was time well spent." Renly laughed. "It's incomparable to anything I've ever seen. Are you going to put it on?" He didn't think he quite managed to hide the jealous tone in his voice and he just rolled his eyes as Loras smirked at his envy.

Loras nodded, though, and without further delay, he called for Tommas to indeed put the armour on. "I'll see you on the field then," he said, smiling widely. "Good luck."

Renly grinned at him. "I'd say the same back to you," he laughed. "But you don't need it do you?"

"No." Loras agreed happily as his squire came scurrying in to dress him.

Renly left him to it then, unable to stop the pangs of jealousy even as he walked away from Loras' tent. He couldn't even stop dwelling on the emerald centred flowers when he sat back down next to Penrose, the excitement that was running through the crowd evidence that the tourney was about to begin any moment.

"You took your time," Penrose commented mildly, his voice low so that the men couldn't hear his words. "I shan't ask what you were engaged in." All the same, he looked Renly up and down a little suspiciously. 

Renly laughed. "If you must know Penrose, I was admiring Ser Loras' armour. It's glorious Penrose, with gold plate and embedded jewels, and a cape of velvet."

Penrose looked very amused at that and Renly frowned, affronted. "I know it's not very believable, but it's true," he insisted, indignant at Penrose's expression.

Penrose just laughed, patting Renly's arm kindly. "I never had any doubt my lord, that that was true. It is more than believable that you should spent the better part of half an hour admiring a piece of beautiful metalwork Renly. You have always had an eye for beautiful things, even when you were a child."

Renly just rolled his eyes. He supposed that Penrose thinking he was fickle was better, though, than him thinking he'd just come from fucking Loras in his tent. Penrose seemed to delight in implying that he and Loras were at it like rabbits, and whilst usually he was right, it felt rather nice for him to be wrong this time.

The crowed grew silent then, even the smallfolk who'd gathered to watch stopping their constant chatter, and Renly watched as Mace Tyrell got to his feet in the row in front of him. In the loudest voice Renly had ever heard the lord of Highgarden use, he proceeded to welcome everyone to the tourney that was to be in celebration of his daughter's name day, and even though Renly couldn't see his expression, he knew that Mace was beaming as he gestured to Margaery beside him, as proud as he could be of his only daughter.

There was a large cheer as Mace said Margaery's name, and Renly could see why. She truly was a vision today, her dress delicate in chiffon and her hair pulled back off her face in an elegant plait. It was easy to see why the smallfolk adored her quite so much. But with her brothers on her left hand side, and her mother and father on her right, Renly couldn't help but feel a little jealous at how close they looked, even allowing for the empty seat left by Loras who was no doubt still getting dressed.

The first tilts were announced as soon as Mace Tyrell had taken his seat and Renly grinned to hear that he would be facing somebody that he had never heard of, a hedge knight apparently from Oldtown. Although it was possible that this hedge knight he was to face would be a surprise contender, it was highly unlikely. Usually, there was a reason why a knight's name was not familiar, and more often than not, it was because their skills were mediocre.

Ser Guyard too seemed pleased with his opponent, Ser Bryan Fossoway, and he seemed honoured too to have the luck of being in the first tilt. He strode off to mount his horse with a confidence worthy of Loras, and Renly didn't blame him. He'd faced Ser Bryan himself once and bested him, and seeing as Renly reckoned Ser Guyard was easily capable of knocking him off a horse, he didn't think he would have any trouble with Ser Bryan.

Indeed, Ser Bryan was knocked off his horse easily and Ser Guyard rode victoriously around the lists once Ser Bryan was in the dust, his green cloak trailing behind him. Renly couldn't see his face for his helm but he just knew that Ser Guyard would be concocting a song to describe his win. Later, no doubt, they would be forced to endure it, and Renly could only be thankful that there was to be no feast tonight and that he wouldn't have to grit his teeth and smile as one of his men made such a fool of himself in front of every lord and lady in attendance.

One of the Freys went next, falling to a minor Lannister that Renly had never heard of, but who had blond hair and green eyes like all of them, and after him rode the two Redwyne twins, one after another. Both of them won their tilts and whichever one of them had gone first, Horror, Renly thought, waited at the edge of the lists for Slobber to claim his victory too. Together then, they paraded once more in front of the smallfolk, their identical sets of armour and identical mounts drawing a little laughter from the crowd.

It was his own turn next, and Renly smiled at his squire as Alyn wished him good luck. He was feeling confident and he nodded politely at the hedge knight as he got into position at his end of the lists. Trying to remember what advice Loras always gave him, Renly pushed his horse into a gallop, savouring the satisfying thump as his lance found his target. Admittedly, it wasn't as accurate a hit as Loras' would no doubt have been, but the lance struck the knight almost squarely between the shoulders.

He returned to his seat for much congratulations, and was seated just in time to hear Loras' tilt called, against Ser Tanton, that good natured brother of Leonette's.

Both knights rode out at the same time but it was most certainly for Loras that the crowd fell immediately silent. He hadn't yet put his helm on and yet his armour gleamed in the sunlight, the emeralds sparkling like diamonds and his cloak flying behind him as he cantered out onto the lists. Even the sand steed had been magnificently outfitted, and somebody, most definitely not Loras, had woven roses into its mane. He was a glorious sight to behold, and every single woman, lady and peasant alike, just stared at him as he passed. Even the men in the crowd seemed to gaze at him in wonder, and Renly was certain that half of them at least were imagining what it would be like to have women stare at them in the same way as they were now staring at Loras Tyrell.

"And Loras wonders why I mock him so," Renly heard Penrose mutter beside him and he just had to grin. He wasn't surprised in the least that Penrose failed to be won over by Loras' spectacular entrance.

"Just hush." Renly whispered back. He thought he should be immune to Loras' charm by now, immune to the beauty that he had the fortune to wake up almost every morning to, and yet he found himself staring at Loras with just as much awe as the rest of the crowd was.

Loras glanced up at the stands before he put his helm on, smiling up first at his sister and then at Renly. It was probably the millionth time Renly had had that smile bestowed upon him, but still he felt his chest swell with pride, with the secret knowledge that out of the thousands gathered here today, he was the one Loras had smiled at.

He held his breath as Loras rode down the lists, and Renly realised quite how long it had been since he'd seen Loras joust. He'd been brilliant at the last tourney, skilled beyond his years, but now, Renly just had to stare in pure admiration. Loras was grace itself, slipping down the lists as if it were silk he were made of and not flesh and bone.

Ser Tanton fell to him as surely as a slave might bow to his master and Renly didn't think he'd ever heard a noise like it. It was deafening, every voice in the crowd raised for him in unison as Loras cantered elegantly before them, his helm now under his arm and his curls flying out behind him. He paused only when he reached where his sister was sitting, and with no less grace, he bent to pluck a white rose from the horse's mane, placing it into his sister's hands.

"You have to admit it," One of Renly's men whispered as they watched. "He may be as arrogant as can be, but I've never seen anyone ride as well as that." Renly's heart just soared as the rest of his men, even the bitter Narbert Grandison who loathed Loras, murmured their assent.

The tilts that followed seemed clumsy after Loras', but Renly enjoyed them regardless. He enjoyed it even more when his second opponent was just as inexperienced as the first had been, and he just had to laugh with glee when his streak of good luck continued into the third round. Admittedly, there were far more competitors in this tourney than in every one Renly had participated in before and so the third round was still a long way off even the quarter finals, and yet still, Renly had to feel a little proud of himself for sailing so easily through.

Even his men were commenting on how lucky he was being by the fourth round, in which Renly knocked a useless boy of sixteen from his saddle, and Renly was delighted. The fourth round was to be the last one for the day, and never before had he made it to the second day of jousting. The gods were certainly looking down on him fondly today, Renly had to think, and this was only further proved when as the last two knights were riding at each other, he saw his men shuffle up along the bench to make room for Loras to come and sit by him.

"Fancy seeing you here," Loras laughed as he sat down, and even Penrose' presence didn't seem to bother him after four victories.

Renly just grinned at him. "You've ridden marvellously," he told him, as if it hadn't already been evident from the way the crowd shouted for him each and every time Loras appeared before them.

"And you've ridden _luckily_ ," Loras laughed, raising his eyebrow. "I know I wished you good luck this morning, but I didn't think the gods were actually listening."

"Me neither," Renly admitted.

Loras looked like he was about to say something back to that, but at that moment the herald spoke again. Together, they hushed, listening as the herald read out what the next day's tilts would be. Loras' tilt was read out quite early on in the list and Renly just sighed as he heard the name that followed it.

"Well," he laughed, turning to Loras. "My streak of good luck seems finally over. I think it's fair to say that that's me out of the next round right?"


	91. Chapter 91

"I should have known my luck couldn't last forever," Renly laughed as he and Loras made their way back up towards Highgarden. Quite honestly, as unappealing as the thought of being knocked off his horse by Loras was, Renly didn't truly mind. Loras, on the other hand, seemed to be silently seething beside him. He hadn't said a word since the herald had announced their names and whilst his face was currently forced into a small smile- for the benefit of the many lords and ladies they were still rubbing shoulders no doubt rather than Renly's own- it was clear that Loras was fully and truly in a sulk.

"Cheer up," Renly said cheerfully to him as the crowd thinned out and he and Loras were more or less alone. " It's only an unfortunate coincidence. It shan't ruin the tourney."

Loras' eyes narrowed. “Coincidence Renly?” He glared disbelievingly at him. “You honestly believe this is coincidence?”

Renly shrugged. “I assumed so. I'm no less likely to be drawn against you than anyone else.”

“True.” Loras muttered darkly. “But I know better.”

Renly laughed. “And how's that? What makes you sure you're not just reading too much into this?”

“Because I know who drew the straws,” he muttered, and with that he turned away from Renly and ascended the stairs that would lead up to Loras' chambers.

“Wait, where are you going?” Renly called after him.

“To kill Garlan.”

Slowly, the pieces fell into place and Renly laughed. “You think Garlan fixed this to get revenge on us."

Loras scowled and nodded, halting on the stairs. “He knows I'll hate having to ride against you. He probably thinks that it shall throw me off, that I won't want to unhorse you.”

“And will it?” The corridor being empty, Renly risked tugging on Loras' wrist and pulling him down the steps to him. “Will you find unhorsing me difficult?” He tilted Loras' face up to look at him, quite amused to hear what Loras would have to say on this.

Indeed, for perhaps the first time, Loras looked uncomfortable to have Renly's hands cupping his face. He did his best to squirm out of Renly's grip. "You're asking if I shall lose on purpose?

“Perhaps," Renly chuckled, sliding his hand into Loras' hair. "Or perhaps I'm asking whether the thought of me pained on the ground by your hand will throw your aim off for true.” Loras himself looked rather pained at just Renly's words and so Renly grinned at him, pulling Loras' hands around his waist as he leant in to kiss him.

Loras kissed him back for a brief few moments before he seemingly thought better of it, instead grabbing Renly by the collar of his doublet and pulling him down the corridor.

"No way Loras," Renly laughed as Loras bundled him into a darkened room. "We've made this mistake once this week and we shan't make it again."

"This is different." Loras hissed.

"And why's that?"

"Because this cupboard has a key." As if to illustrate his point, Loras took a heavy gold key that was hanging on the wall and turned it in the lock. It made a satisfying grating noise, rather like the back doors at Storm's End did when opened or closed, and Renly found it somehow satisfying. He wondered, though, whether he ought to be a tiny bit frightened at the thought of being locked in a dark room with Loras when he was evidently in a bit of a rage. Whilst his rage was directed at Garlan, Renly knew too that it didn't bode well either to be an innocent bystander when Loras was on the warpath.

Seeking somewhere to sit, Renly frowned when all he could find was an upturned bucket, half hidden in the shadows. Running his fingers over it, he shuddered when he felt how dusty it was, and was just on the verge of deciding to remain stood when Loras made that decision for him, all but launching himself at him as his mouth found Renly's. The kiss was a little vicious, no doubt a result of his pent-up anger, but Renly imagined this was a rather more agreeable release for that frustration than many of the other possibilities were.

In the dark, though, Loras was a little less elegant than usual, and as he leant in for a second kiss, he missed Renly's mouth by more than a little bit, barely catching Renly's bottom lip. He didn't seem to care, though, and he just nipped at Renly's skin instead.

"Please, Loras." Renly laughed as he tried to pull away slightly from what was beginning to hurt. "Be gentle with me." He wrapped an arm lovingly around Loras' waist, hoping to curry some favour. "Now, what were we saying about tomorrow?"

He felt Loras smirk. “You think I'm that easy to persuade to let you win?” he whispered into Renly's mouth. He tried to push Renly back against the wall but Renly stood firm, and not just because he knew how dusty and covered in cobwebs the wall would be. "Even you're not that persuasive," Loras added.

Renly chuckled. “perhaps.” he said, drawing back slightly and tilting Loras' head back to kiss his neck. “Well would you?” He gave Loras a little taste of his own medicine as he bit down softly on the delicate skin beneath his ear. He was pleased too that when he tried to push Loras back against the wall, Loras didn't stand firm at all. He let Renly back him right up into the corner amongst the cobwebs and let out a soft sigh as Renly traced his collarbone with his tongue.

"So would you?" Renly repeated, sliding a hand down to Loras' breeches and rubbing his cock ever so slightly through the thin fabric. "Pray tell me."

“If you asked.” Loras breathed back shakily, his hands gripping Renly's hair.

Loras' answer surprised Renly more than he could say. He knew quite how much winning meant to Loras, and he suspected that this particular victory, which would be for all his family to see, would taste even more sweet to Loras. He imagined that just the thought of taking the win and being able to crown his sister Queen of Love and Beauty on her name day would have Loras chomping at the bit. And that, Renly knew, was something that Renly couldn't possibly take away from him.

He laughed against Loras' neck. “I'm not asking you to let me win Loras. I just wanted to see if you would.” His mouth found the hollow at the base of his throat. “Though I'll make sure to ask you again when you're not hard.” he added with amusement, squeezing Loras' cock very gently through his breeches.

Loras just groaned and pushed himself against Renly, taking Renly's spare hand in his own and guiding it downwards to place it impatiently on the laces of his breeches.

“We're in a cupboard.” Renly whispered, palming him through the fabric regardless. "This is ridiculous." The memory of Willas was all too fresh in his memory and despite the key in the lock, Renly imagined he would feel a lot safer if he were behind the locked door of his chambers.

“I don't care,” Loras moaned back, arching his hips to Renly's touch.

Renly laughed softly. He didn't really have the heart to say no, not when Loras was so wound up. Besides, his own pulse was racing now, and so he tugged the laces of Loras' breeches open in one fluid movement, his hand finding Loras' cock easily. There was no time for teasing soft caresses and listening intently for any noise outside, Renly tightened his grip, using quick firm strokes to bring Loras to the edge as quickly as possible.

Before long, Loras' breathing was coming in ragged gasps and Renly had to press his hand over Loras' mouth to stifle his cries as he came. He leant heavily against Renly for a good few minutes afterwards, his heart thumping loudly between them. Despite using Renly to support him though, he evidently felt that he'd used up all of his generosity today by agreeing to let Renly win, even if that point was now moot, and as soon as he'd caught his breath, he laced his breeches back up and pulled Renly back outside.

"What happened to my turn?" Renly complained as he hurriedly brushed the dust off Loras' clothing for him, a task they probably should have done whilst still in the cupboard.

"Your turn was yesterday," Loras smirked. "When you refused to let me even touch you."

Renly just rolled his eyes at him. He was going to say something scathing back, but it was then that they heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Hurriedly, they sprang apart and as if of one mind, pretended to be admiring the view out of the window. Sneaking a glance sideways, though, Renly could see that three figures were approaching- one very small old lady who was flanked by two guards who towered over even Renly. It was Loras' grandmother and Renly would have been terrified to see her even if he hadn't just brought Loras to climax in a broom cupboard.

All the same, Renly forced a smile and turned to face the music. “Lady Olenna,” he greeted her cordially.

“Lord Renly,” she replied curtly, her eyes passing over her grandson and then him. “It's a pleasure.”

She'd taken her hand off her walking cane, and whilst Renly wasn't sure whether she was holding it out for him, he took it and kissed it anyway just to be on the safe side.

She raised an eyebrow at the gesture, inclining her head towards Loras and winking. “It seems your lord is trying to seduce me, Loras.” She laughed when Loras scowled before turning back to Renly. “I thought you had more wits about you lord Renly than to spend any more time with your insolent squire than you have to.”

“I haven't been Lord Renly's squire for a year now Grandmother.” Loras corrected.

“Pardon an old lady's memory Loras if she doesn't remember all the goings on of her grandchildren.” She patted his hand with her own wrinkled one. “Now be a good child and run along to tell your father I require speaking with him.”

Renly prepared himself for Loras to refuse, to tell the old lady that he was no child, nor a messenger, but instead he just scowled, held his tongue and headed off down the hallway with her message. Renly just stared after him, a little speechless. Loras had been not half that obedient to him when he'd been his squire and Renly had to wonder just quite how thorny this old queen was to keep Loras in check like that.

She extended her arm though, and reluctantly Renly had to stop staring at Loras' back as he made his way down the corridor. “Walk with me lord Renly," she said. "I could do with some amusement while my oaf son blunders about trying to make time for me.”

Renly laughed and took her frail arm. “It would be a pleasure my lady.” It would certainly be no pleasure, he thought to himself.

They strolled down the steps, her two guards following behind. “I should be thankful I guess that I'm not Lord Leyton Hightower," she told him amiably. "I dread to think how many grandchildren he has other than the four I share with him. He has ten children you know and one among them was silly enough to marry my son.”

Renly laughed. “Lady Alerie seems clever and wise my lady and your son has been nothing if not hospitable to me.”

“Yes... yes,” She waved away his words. "And Highgarden is beautiful and you are honoured to visit. ” She smiled her wrinkled old grin. “Tell me, did your septa teach you those pretty courtesies lord Renly? I had been told you had a way with words.”

Renly chuckled a little nervously. He wasn't quite sure what to make of this lady at all. The courtesies that usually charmed other women, young and old alike, appeared to bounce off her. He tried again. “It seems that it was a shrewd match, my lady, the lord of Highgarden and a daughter of Hightower.”

She peered up at him, her gaze surprisingly cold. “So you have an eye for these things it seems lord Renly.” She laughed. “You're quite right of course. It was a very good match. Lord Leyton may well be the richest lord in the seven kingdoms after Tywin Lannister- a fact many seem to forget. Men don't realise that you don't need one of the seven kingdoms at your beck and call to be both richer and more powerful than several of those so called Great Houses put together.” She sighed, shaking her head. “Still, wealth doesn't guarantee happiness.”

Renly smiled, thinking back to that lovely swing Loras' father had apparently had made for his bride. “It seems lord Mace and lady Alerie struck lucky then. They seem happy together. It is rare indeed to be able to marry for both love and for gain.”

“So you do have at least some wits about you.” Lady Olenna's gaze bore into him. “So tell me lord Renly, will it be love or gain for you?”

Renly laughed. He'd imagined that with all her wits that she probably had at least some suspicions about he and Loras, but he wasn't quite sure now. He searched her face, looking for some clue as to if she was mocking him. “I am not yet twenty my lady,” he pointed out. “I feel it is a decision that I will not have to make for some time yet.” In truth, it wasn't a decision he ever wanted to make, though Renly supposed it might as well be gain he married for, seeing as he wasn't to be allowed to wed Loras any time soon.

“True true," the old lady conceded. "You have time yet lord Renly. Feel fortunate that men do not become stale as quickly as us women.” She glanced up at the sun. “Though, speaking of time. Where has my insolent grandson got to? I'd have thought he'd have found his silly father by now.”

Renly glanced around him, but there was no sign of Loras yet.

The Queen of Thorns sighed. “Tell me lord Renly, did he take his time over obeying orders when he was your squire?” They'd reached one of the gardens now and she stooped to pick up a flower.

Renly laughed and bent down to pluck it for her. “You should think yourself lucky that he even obeyed the order,” he admitted.

“Ah yes," she chuckled. "Willas got all the wits and Loras all the insolence.” She glanced up at Renly. “The looks too it seems. For all my grandson’s faults I cannot deny him that he is a pretty child.” She sighed contemplatively. “Perhaps there is hope for him yet. He may grow out of his insolence.”

Renly smiled, amused. “It is possible,” He agreed. Privately, he thought it unlikely and he thought he would be rather disappointed if Loras ever became half as sensible as his eldest brother. He rather enjoyed Loras' impulsiveness and his sharp tongue.

“How old even is my youngest grandson now lord Renly," lady Olenna asked, examining the petals of the flower Renly had picked for her. "Eleven? Twelve?"

Renly squirmed rather uncomfortably. He hoped the old lady certainly wasn't aware of his and Loras' relations if she thought that Loras was quite that young. “Loras is fifteen my lady.”

“Of course he is. How silly of me to forget.” she laughed. “After all, he just informed me so helpfully that he's been knighted.” Footsteps caught her attention then and she glanced up to see Loras appear on the stairs. “Speak of the devil,” she said sternly, turning to him. “Did you find your father?”

“He's in his solar, Grandmother.” Loras said. “But he did say he was rather bus-”

“Never mind if he's busy. Busy with what I must ask. His tourneys and his balls most likely.” She kept a straight face and Renly couldn't tell if she had intended to make the pun or not. Knowing this old lady, he wouldn't be at all surprised if she had.

"His balls?" Renly couldn't help but clarify, trying to stifle his laughter.

"Oh yes," she agreed with a wink. “Now if you may excuse me lord Renly, I must speak with my son.”

With that, she disappeared up the steps with her two guards following at her heels, and Renly and Loras were left alone in the rose garden. Renly laughed as he sank onto a nearby bench. He felt somehow exhausted from the exchange and somehow found himself feeling rather sorry for Loras' father, even more sorry than he felt currently for Garlan who was about to face Loras' wrath.

Loras came and sat next to him, watching him with amusement. “She didn't get the better of you did she?”

Renly sighed. “Perhaps a very little.” He ruffled Loras' hair fondly. “She certainly seemed to get the better of you though. I've never seen you take orders so easily.” He leant against Loras and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth seeing as they were alone and he was in desperate need of comfort. “I must admit I was rather jealous.”

Loras snorted. “I seem to remember telling you less than half an hour ago that I would lose on purpose if you asked me to. And you know how much I loathe losing.”

Renly laughed. “True. I was very flattered.”

“What did my grandmother have to say to you then?” Loras asked.

Renly shrugged. “Nothing much. We talked of Hightower and your lord grandfather, and of the marriage between your parents, and a little of you.”

Loras groaned. “What did she have to say of me?” He asked. “I suspect it was all bad.”

Renly sighed. “She asked how old you were for one. I was quite alarmed when she thought you were twelve, considering that I thought she might suspect the fact you share my chambers.”

Loras rolled his eyes. “My grandmother knows full well how old I am. She'll have said that to wind you up.” He laughed and patted Renly on the knee. “Don't let yourself be fooled by how frail and forgetful she pretends to be. She's actually quite sharp."

Renly smiled and pulled him closer. “Perhaps she's right though. Perhaps I am an old lewd man who uses children to his advantage.” He smiled into Loras' hair. “After all, you probably weren't all that much older than that when I did take you into my bed.”

Loras pulled away. “If by take into my bed you mean when you began fucking me I was near fourteen I'll have you know.”

“Thirteen and a half.” Renly corrected.

“Definitely closer to fourteen.” Loras sighed dramatically. “I thought we'd finally moved on from this.” He nudged Renly playfully and laid his head against Renly's shoulder. “Speaking of fucking, I think it's high time that we turned in for the night. I'll even put off chasing down Garlan if you like."

Renly laughed. “It's not even dark yet,” he pointed out.

“Which is why I didn't suggest sleeping.” He wrapped his arms around Renly's waist and hauled him to his feet. He was surprisingly strong for such a slim lithe creature.

Renly grinned. “Your rooms or mine.”

Loras smirked wickedly and Renly knew he was concocting mischief. "Yours," he said decisively. "I was thinking maybe that we could save my chambers for later tonight. You do realise that Garlan has the rooms next to mine. We could make his and Leonette's night a misery.”

Renly couldn't help looking horrified. As if Willas having caught them in the act wasn't already enough. “By we, I hope you mean you,” he added indignantly. “You're the loud one out of the two of us.”

Loras snorted. “Fine then. _I_ could make Garlan's night a misery then.”

Renly raised an eyebrow sternly. "If you even think any more about doing that, then I can safely promise you I shall never speak to you again."

That seemed to disappoint Loras more than a little bit, but even so, he grabbed Renly's wrist and made to lead him out of the rose garden.


	92. Chapter 92

"Do we _have_ to lie in wait in your chambers?" Renly asked dryly for the fifth time. He couldn't deny that he felt a little silly, holed up as they were in Loras' bedroom, listening intently for any sound of Garlan approaching. He supposed at least though that he didn't look half as foolish as Loras, who was currently sat at the door itself, his ear pressed to the wood as if he were a huntsmen listening for the distant pitter patter of hooves instead of Garlan's thumping feet.

"Yes we do." Loras hissed, not moving from his spot by the door. "He and Leonette will have to return to their rooms before dinner."

That wasn't a real explanation as to why the pair of them were lying in wait in Loras' chambers but Renly supposed it should have to do. Loras was never particularly inclined to follow reason or logic. He never had been, and all of Renly's attempts to have him think a little had always fallen on deaf ears. "Fine," he sighed. "But what do you suggest we do when we hear them coming, ambush them?"

"Exactly Renly!" Loras glanced up and he looked wickedly gleeful. "Finally we're on the same page."

"Um, Loras, I was joking."

"Don't be silly," Loras waved away Renly's words and returned to listening at the door. 

"How do you even know he fixed it anyway?" Renly pointed out as he paced idly around the room, admiring some of Loras' childhood things. "I was always under the impression that the tourney draw was random."

"Random?" Loras asked bluntly. "And I thought you were supposed to be the clever one out of the two of us."

Renly had never really thought about the two of them that way, but he supposed now that he thought about it, he would be considered the clever one out of the two of them. Loras had a quick wit, a sort of cleverness of his own, but he had never shown any particular aptitude for his letters or his numbers. That might have had something to do with him having little to no interest in what the maester taught him. Renly thought, and it had been for that reason that Loras' lessons had been short lived. 

"Go on then," Renly laughed, walking back over to the door. "Explain things to me." He reached down lazily with an arm to pull Loras up. 

Loras didn't struggle too much and he let Renly hook his arm around him without too much of a fuss. "All right then," he exhaled, sounding a little exasperated. He let Renly lead him over to his bed. "Well have you ever seen a tourney where Jaime Lannister for instance gets drawn against the Hound in the first few rounds?

Renly thought. "No," he decided, flopping down on Loras' bed and stretching out lazily. Even though the day was growing old, the sun still streamed in through the bay windows, bringing with it the scent of thousands of rose gardens, and Renly thought it all far too pleasant to still be mad at Garlan.

"What about any of the favourites to win?" Loras pressed.

Renly thought again. "No."

Loras joined him on the bed, although Renly could tell at least some of his attention was still on the door.  "Well that's because it's rigged to make sure that the best of us meet in the later rounds." he told Renly. "Someone works it out to try and make sure that the best of the jousts come last. It would be a little of a let down, say, if I and the Kingslayer met in the third round and then the victor sailed through to the win."

Renly supposed that made sense. He'd never really given much thought to what went on behind the scenes at a tourney. He didn't really care to either. Somehow, it ruined the magic of it all, the way that he could simply float out onto the lists, ride in his tilt and then return to his seat to bathe in the exquisite pagentry of it all. He didn't want to be thinking about some man in a tent somewhere working it all out. 

"And what Garlan did-" Loras continued even though Renly had little interest. "-well he couldn't be so mean to you as to just rig it so that I knocked you out in the first round, but at the same time, he had to be sure you didn't get knocked out by somebody else. Which is why-"

"Which is why all my opponents so far have been little boys and halfwit hedge knights?" Renly supplied helpfully. He supposed now that he should have realised that there had probably been a more logical reason for that than that the gods he didn't believe in taking a particular fancy to him that morning.

Loras rolled on top of him and laughed, the sound vibrating against Renly's chest pleasantly. "Exactly." He laid his head on Renly's shoulder and closed his eyes. He looked deceptively peaceful there but Renly knew that he was most likely still listening out for any noises outside, lying in wait to pounce.

Indeed, Renly had only been stroking Loras' hair for a few minutes when they heard footsteps outside. Loras was off his chest and out of the door like a shot. He had been so ready to ambush Garlan but Renly wondered really whether Loras had actually got so far as to give any thought to what he'd say to Garlan when he did in fact confront him. Personally, he doubted it, and curious to hear what Loras might choose to say, he dragged himself off of Loras' bed and to the door.

There was a veritable crowd gathered outside, for evidently both Willas and Margaery had heard the kerfuffle too and thought it worth exiting their chambers for. 

Garlan stood a few yards away from Loras, arm in arm with his wife. "Why, hello," he laughed, raising a hand to scratch his head. "I was wondering when I might run into you Loras." He didn't look at all apprehensive, not even in the face of Loras' fury.

"You scheming vile piece of filth." Loras launched himself at him. He was unarmed but he evidently thought he could do enough harm with his fists. 

Garlan merely chuckled and took a step back, wrapping an arm protectively around Leonette. "Please, Loras, not in front of the ladies." He grinned his lopsided grin, and gave the audience that he and Loras had a lazy wave.

"Fine." Loras snapped. He took Leonette's arm and opened the door to Garlan's chambers. "It would be a pleasure Leonette," Very courteously, he waved her through before he all but slammed the door behind her. He evidently didn't think Margaery counted as a lady for he then rounded once more on Garlan.

"Where were we?" Garlan grinned. He rolled up his sleeves. "Oh yes, my pint sized brother was about to punch me."

Loras narrowed his eyes. "Who are you calling pint-sized?" he warned. He balled his fists up angrily. "Well you know what you can do?"

"what can I do Loras?" Garlan asked sweetly. "Any more requests for who you should like to face in the tourney?"

"You can go fuck yourself with a hot poker is what you can do." 

Garlan grin just got wider. "Careful there Loras, I wouldn't be using self-serving insults if I were you. Next you'll be calling me a son of a bitch." He just smiled as Loras' face flushed even further with rage. Renly too felt the blood rush to his cheeks, but that was with embarrassment rather than rage. He thought Garlan's insinuations a little too close to home to be amused by.

"How dare you?" Loras' voice was soft but very very dangerous.

"Well if the shoe fits..?" Garlan smirked widely. "So any tips then Loras? For when I bugger myself with that poker?"

That was definitely too close to home and Renly wanted the ground to open up and swallow him. Thankfully, though, nobody seemed to be looking at him. They were too busy watching what Loras would do next. They were right to be watching too, for Loras seemed to truly lose his temper then, and he lashed out at Garlan in a flurry of fists.   
  
None of them seemed to find their mark though, and Garlan just laughed loudly. Carelessly, he took hold of the collar of Loras' shirt as one might pick up a puppy by the scruff of its neck. He spun Loras around and gave him a gentle push in the direction of Margaery. "Why don't you find someone your own size to pick a fight with?" he suggested with a grin.

Margaery just laughed and she reached out for Loras' hand. "Come Loras," she said. She kept her hand extended when Loras seemed tempted to fly at Garlan once more.

Loras scowled bitterly but his expression slowly softened as he looked at Margaery's outstretched hand. He threw a scathing look in Garlan's direction before he took it. "We're not finished," he warned.

"I'll bear that in mind," Garlan replied, and with a wink at both Renly and Willas, he disappeared into his chambers after his wife.

"Come, let me show you something," Margaery said as she tugged Loras down the hallway, away from the fight that her youngest brother could never hope to win. Loras let his sister lead him away but he did glance furtively back at Renly as he did so, questions in his eyes.

Renly just gave him a small nod. He supposed that he'd had Loras to himself for a good four years. He could let Margaery have him the day before her name day.

..............

Margaery hadn't given him back Loras by the time that the morning of the second day of the tourney dawned and so Renly walked down to the lists with Penrose instead. It was as glorious a day as yesterday had been and Renly found his mood couldn't be dampened even by the thought of Loras unhorsing him. If anything, it was almost a relief to know he didn't stand a chance in his next tilt. He wouldn't have to bother even trying to ride well.

"So," Penrose laughed as they neared the tourney grounds. "Are you feeling hopeful this morning Renly?" There was a twinkle in his eye that told Renly that his castellan was completely aware how hopeless Renly's situation was. 

Renly gave him a look. "What do you think Penrose?" he asked dryly. 

Penrose chuckled. "I don't know, Ser Andrew's got quite a lot of money that your dearest Loras shall let you win."

Renly raised an eyebrow. "How lovely." As much as he knew his men talked idly behind his back, he didn't like to dwell on it. 

"I thought it was a little ridiculous." Penrose told him as he ran a hand absent-mindedly over his beard. "Ser Andrew evidently hasn't spent enough time with Loras. Else he would know that boy's arrogance and love of winning for what it is."

Renly snorted a little indignantly. "Actually Penrose, Loras did offer." He was rather unimpressed with how little faith Penrose had in the lengths to which Loras would go for him. He supposed that Penrose' view would be a little clouded by the vendetta he and Loras had constantly raging between them.

Penrose looked genuinely taken aback. "Did I mishear?" he clarified with an amused look. "Loras Tyrell _volunteered_ to lose? Did he hit his pretty little head or something?"

"Not that I know of," Renly laughed. "Is it so impossible to believe that I might inspire such loyalty?"

"Not at all," Penrose replied. "I just wouldn't have believed that of Loras. In fact, if it were Ser Guyard you were riding against this morning, I dare say he'd have thrown himself from his horse before he even made it out onto the lists."

Renly just grinned at that, and he took a moment to picture how such an event might play out. He could see it now: Ser Guyard hurling himself from the saddle into the dirt, his green cape swirling in the wind. He'd then most likely crawl through the dirt before stopping to lick Renly's boots clean. No doubt later, there would be a song even to describe how exquisite the leather of Renly's shoes had tasted.

He couldn't help then imagining what might have been had he taken Loras up on his offer to lose. He tried to picture his own lance striking Loras in the chest, that part of Loras which Renly feared might still be a little fragile from his run in with the Cleganes. He had to grimace then as in his mind's eye, Loras fell to the ground in pain. Although it would never be so in reality, in Renly's mind's eye, Loras wore no helm and Renly could see his pained face as he collided with the ground. He could see the humiliation too, and Renly was suddenly very glad he'd refused Loras. There would be no shame for him in losing to Loras, Renly thought, but he imagined that there would be rather a lot of shame for Loras in losing to him. Not only because he'd have fallen to a lesser opponent, but because he'd then have had to hold his head high as he endured the snide whispers that followed him as he made his way off the lists. _Look how Tyrell bends over for his lord_ , they would say. _Look at the way he licks his lord's boots as well as his cock._ Loras would have stood it, he probably wouldn't even have been ashamed of it, Renly knew, but it would have made him furious all the same and it wouldn't have been too long at all before several of Renly's men would have ended up with black eyes.

Luckily, it was not to be so, but all the same Renly was all nerves when it came to mounting his horse. He wasn't quite sure why the thought of Loras knocking him off his horse was any more terrifying than any other rider who he was sure to lose against, but he found himself more on edge than he could ever remember himself being. He had a painful lump in his throat and it burned somehow to swallow. He wished that he'd thought to seek Loras out this morning, to beg him to strike him gently with that deadly lance of his.

"Just relax my lord," Alyn told him with a laugh as he led the mare out. "It shall be over quickly."

Renly just raised his eyebrow, glancing down at him with a grin. "The others take you Alyn. You're my squire, you're supposed to lie to me."

"Would ser Loras have lied to you my lord?" Alyn asked with a sly smile, as if he knew he'd outwitted him with that one.

"No," Renly admitted. "But still! Loras was a useless squire, be a better one."

"As you wish my lord," Alyn smiled. "In which case, I don't see why you fret so. You ride magnificently lord Renly, and I dare say Ser Loras is so useless he couldn't keep his seat in a wheelhouse."

"Too far." Renly told him, his heart sinking. "But never mind, you did your best." He turned his horse in the direction of the lists and as Alyn handed him up his helm, he caught sight of Penrose giving him a sly wave from the stands. He could see also that his men were in the midst of raucous laughter. He wondered if they were laughing at his miserable situation, and suddenly, he couldn't remember why he'd felt hopeful this morning. The sun had lost its warmth, and the flowers didn't smell so sweet anymore, and Renly wished rather that he'd forfeited the tilt instead of riding in it. 

Renly could see Loras now, at the other of the lists. He looked magnificent and Renly just sighed as he stared over at him. Loras caught him looking and gave him a smile in return. It was too far of a distance though, to see whether it was a reassuring smile or one of those cruel smirks that Loras usually favoured. Renly liked to think it was a reassuring one, but he couldn't be sure. Never before had Renly been more desperate to know what was running through Loras' mind right now and he could only hope that Loras was feeling as skittish as he was. He thought it was very unlikely though.

"Now remember my lord," Alyn hissed. "Try and relax as you fall. It makes the landing less painful."

"Right," Renly agreed, and with that he waited for the gong that would sound the beginning of the tilt. His own mare was prancing slightly from side to side, skittish underneath him as if she too could sense his discomfort. Loras' sand steed, however, was standing calmly a hundred yards away opposite him, looking as cool as its rider even though Renly knew that on the inside, both of them probably would be chafing at the bit to hurtle down the lists.

The gong sounded then, and Renly was glad his horse seemed to know what to do, for he surely didn't. He'd been told so many times that it was futile to watch one's opponent in a joust, that you did better to keep looking forward, but he couldn't resist it all the same. Loras was all grace as he galloped down the lists to meet him and had Renly not known they were in a joust, he might have thought it pleasant to see Loras ride so elegantly at such close quarters.

Renly couldn't look though as he got closer. He couched his lance as best he could whilst he clenched his eyes shut, grateful that nobody could see for the visor. Taking a deep breath as the wind whistled past his ears, he braced himself for the impact.

It was just as hard as he expected and Renly found himself tumbling from the saddle upon impact, the loud clang of his own armour like thunder in his own ears. He lay a little stunned in the dirt for a good long time, thoroughly winded. He didn't know how long it really was that he remained there, but after what seemed but a few seconds to him, he felt Alyn pulling his visor up, and he was blinded by the sunshine above him.

"Are you all right?" Alyn asked.

Renly nodded and stumbled to his feet, his legs feeling a little weak underneath him. He couldn't catch sight of Loras as he let Alyn take him back to his tent, and he tried not to look around for him too conspicuously. He did catch sight of his own men clapping heartily for him, as if he'd just slain a dragon rather than just fallen to his former squire. 

It was a relief to reach his own tent, but he'd barely sat down when the tent flap was torn open.

"How dare you do that to me," Loras snapped. He saw Alyn then and pushed him forcefully from the tent. 

Renly just blinked. "How dare I do what?"

"You didn't get up. I thought I'd killed you, or... or worse." He fell to his knees in front of Renly. "You just lay there, really still." He laid his head on Renly's knee and Renly could tell that he was shaking, whether from anger or fear, Renly couldn't tell. What he did know, though, was that he felt horrendously guilty. He had never meant to worry Loras like that.

"Oh Loras," Renly sunk down onto his knees beside him and they just held each other for a while. They were both still armoured, and it was a very uncomfortable embrace, but Loras didn't seem in any hurry to let him go. Even in his gauntlets, Loras fingers were clinging to his side, and it was probably the noisiest embrace they'd ever shared, their metal plate clinking together each time one of them shifted.

"I didn't even mean to unhorse you," Loras lamented once he seemed capable of speech again. "You were supposed to keep your seat."

"Oh," Renly said. "Well I suppose I did ride rather poorly." He supposed he should be a little ashamed. He'd been unhorsed violently without Loras even trying. Shifting out of the embrace, he pulled Loras to his feet and sat him down next to him. There was only a certain amount of time that he could remain on his knees in his armour. 

"Poorly?" Loras asked in disbelief. "You rode so poorly my sister could have unhorsed you.”

Renly just laughed and pulled Loras' curly head to his chest. "Calm yourself Loras. Everything's all right. I'm all right."

Loras nodded but didn't pull away. He seemed to draw a surprising amount of comfort from having his cheek pressed against Renly's cold breastplate.

"I should call Alyn back." Renly said reluctantly after a few moments. "I need to get out of this armour."

Loras frowned. "I'll do it." He got to his feet and began undoing buckles. He was quick about it as Alyn never was and he still evidently remembered where all of the separate pieces got tidied away to, just the way that Renly liked it. Soon all the plate was in it's proper place and Loras quickly set himself to removing the padding beneath it. As soon as he'd then got that off, he began inspecting Renly, turning him first this way and then the other so that he could check him for any injuries. Eventually, once he'd rubbed his palms over ever inch of Renly's skin, he seemed satisfied.

"You're pathetic," Loras told him with a sigh and a raised eyebrow, going for Renly's clothes as if he'd forgotten he wasn't actually Renly's squire. "There's not a bruise on you and yet you played dead for so long that I thought you at least unconscious."

Renly took his face in both hands and tilted it up to kiss him. "Hush Loras. Enough fretting over me. You have a tourney to win." He gave Loras a gentle push in the direction of the tent flap. Very very reluctantly, Loras turned and took his leave.

............

"Are you all right?" Penrose asked as Renly sat down. "You took quite a fall there." That seemed to amuse him and Renly could see that his castellan was fighting back a smile. 

"As right as rain." Renly told him with a sigh. It was the truth, but he imagined that tomorrow he'd be more than a little sore. 

"Did Loras find you?" Penrose inquired.

"How did you know he was looking for me?"

Penrose raised an eyebrow. "I've never seen that boy look more agitated than he was when you were on the ground. He didn't even give out one of his precious flowers." 

Renly grinned. "It's my fault. I'm pathetic apparently." He rolled his eyes. "I'd like to see Loras get up quickly after being knocked so forcefully out of his saddle."

Penrose shook his head fondly. "I dare say that wouldn't prove anything my lord. We're talking about the boy who fought half a melee with four broken ribs and a broken collar bone. I dare say we could smash him over the head with a hammer and he still wouldn't feel entitled to lie on the ground to get his breath back."

"I suppose you're right," Renly admitted with a laugh. "But still, he hit me really hard with that lance of his."

Penrose gave a small smirk. "I'm sure there's a joke there waiting to be made, but I shall refrain." He patted Renly on the shoulder. "Now, come, let us watch the tourney. The day is far too glorious for me to spend it mocking you."

...........

Loras reached the final tilt easily as everyone had known he would and Renly watched with baited breath as Beric Dondarrion and Loras took to the lists for what would be the final time this tourney. Both men were skilled, and both seemed as confident as the other was as they charged towards each other, lances couched and shield arms braced. It could only have been a few seconds before they collided, but it felt like an age, and Renly found he almost couldn't watch. Throughout the crowd, men and women were holding their breath, fingers crossed as they held their money bags to their chests and prayed that the man they'd favoured would take the victory.

Both Loras and lord Beric landed a hit with their lances, and both were thrown off balance. As Renly watched both of them struggle to stay in the saddle, Renly thought he finally understood what Loras meant when he insisted that half of jousting well was dependant on riding well. Loras regained his seat easily. Lord Beric did not. And before Renly could even draw another breath, the lightning lord was tumbling from his saddle, the sound of him hitting the ground drowned out by the roar that rang out. The crowd would no doubt have cheered for lord Beric had it been Loras who had fallen, but Renly imagined that it wouldn't have been half so loud. This was a Highgarden crowd and it was for a Highgarden champion that they were screaming.

As was courteous, Loras waited until it was clear lord Beric had suffered no injury before he rode once more about the lists. He stopped only to be handed the wreath of flowers and he didn't waste any more time after that, cantering back round to where his sister was sitting to crown her his Queen of Love and Beauty. Renly was not at all surprised. He dared say that even if it hadn't been Margaery's name day that Loras would still have crowned her so. 

Renly was surprised, though, when instead of leaning down to place the wreath around her neck, he beckoned her forward. She came without much encouragement, almost skipping the few steps that it took her. Loras then hoisted her up onto the sand steed in front of him before placing the elaborate wreath of roses around her neck.

"She's beautiful," Renly heard one of his men whisper as they passed. "She can't possibly be real."

 Indeed, neither Margaery, nor Loras looked real. They made the prettiest of pictures as they rode about the lists together, and Renly had to hand it to Loras- he certainly knew how to excite the crowd. Margaery too, it seemed, for still in Loras' arms, she took a few of the flowers that had been woven into the horse's mane, and a few too from her wreath, and strewed them into the crowd in a flurry of petals. With her hair streaming behind her, and with the red roses Loras had placed in her hair, she could have been the maiden herself. 

Even Penrose was smiling and Renly just gazed down fondly at the pair of Tyrells that were now but a few yards away, his chest full to bursting with pride. Loras must have known he was looking, for he shifted slightly to turn to face him, and as their eyes met, the smile that he gave Renly could have melted the very Wall itself.

............

It seemed that everybody wished to congratulate Loras though, and rather than giving his men reason to laugh at him by begging for Loras' attention, Renly left him to bask in his glory whilst he and his men headed back to the castle to change for the magnificent feast and ball that would follow. Renly had only just got back to his chambers, though, before their was a impatient rapping at his door before it then swung immediately open.

Loras stood in the now open doorway. He was out of his armour now, and a few loose petals had found themselves in his hair. There was a large red rose in his hands, but whether it survived or not, Renly had no idea, for it was soon being crushed by their embrace.


	93. Chapter 93

“It’s going to be a magnificent evening,” Renly decided, rising from the tub and rubbing himself down with the soft towelling the chambermaids had brought up.

“Mm-hmm,” Loras agreed, not really sounding like he was listening. He was already bathed and dried but was lying across Renly’s bed stark naked, evidently with no thoughts of getting dressed. The rose he’d given Renly had not survived, and the petals were now strewn across the sheets underneath Loras, their deep red hues vibrant against both the while silk of the sheets and Loras’ skin. He made no attempts at modesty, and was simply staring up at the ceiling, no doubt reliving his victory yet once more. He had one arm stretched out lazily above his head, the muscles pulling taut in his chest and his stomach, and whilst Renly was no artist, he almost wished he had a paintbrush to at least try and capture some of the beauty before him.

With no paintbrush to hand, though, Renly merely had to content himself with smiling at the sight, and he sighed as he bent to kiss Loras’ bare stomach.

“You are absolutely beautiful.” he whispered against Loras’ skin. “Watching you today, I just wanted to make love to you over and over again.”

“You’ve already done that,” Loras murmured, a small smirk playing at his lips. He evidently enjoyed being admired.

“I know,” Renly smoothed a hand up one of Loras’ bare thighs, relishing how Loras closed his eyes at that. He picked up a few of the petals and tossed them idly over Loras’ chest. “You look properly and truly like the knight of flowers now.”

Loras laughed, a smile spreading out across his face even though he didn’t bother opening his eyes. “Actually Renly, I didn’t mean for you to destroy the rose I gave you.”

“It wasn’t my fault,” Renly insisted. “How was I to know that we should shred the petals when we made love? You are as much to blame as I am. It's not like I fucked myself.”

Loras’ smile grew wider and dimples formed in his cheeks. “Yes, but you’re heavier than I.” He reached out for Renly’s hand, running his slender fingers over the palm. “Perhaps I shall have to give you a rose every day then, seeing as you crushed this one so quickly with these great big hands of yours.”

Renly laughed and looked down at his hands. They were certainly bigger than Loras’, but personally he’d always thought it was that Loras had the most delicate of hands rather than his being particularly large. “You should know best of all how gentle I can be with these hands,” he told Loras with a laugh.

Loras yawned and brought Renly’s hand to his lips lazily. “Yes,” he admitted. “You’re very gentle, like a gentle giant.”

Renly smiled. “Why, thank you, but I’ll need my hands back Loras. I need to get dressed.” They only had an hour until the feast was due to start, and Renly needed all that time to get himself ready. He wanted to brush his hair until it shone, and ask at least five of his chambermaids how he looked.

“Fine,” Loras sighed, relinquishing Renly's hands from his grasp. He sat up and pushed his still slightly damp curls off his face. “What shall you wear?” He tugged the towelling away from Renly's waist. "Not this rag I hope?"

“Do you wish to see?” Ignoring the fact that he was now naked too, Renly pulled Loras up to his feet and then over to his wardrobe where Alyn had carefully hung up his outfit that morning. It was an outfit Renly was rather looking forward to wearing, consisting of a deep midnight blue doublet with a matching surcoat, so deep in colour that it looked almost purple in the dimming light of the day. Adorned with silver fastenings, with intricate silvery embroidery to match, Renly thought he might be the finest of all the men tonight. And indeed, even if he wasn't, that honour would no doubt fall to Loras, whom Renly would still get to take to bed after the ball. Either way, Renly reckoned that he'd be rather happy with how it turned out.

“It’s only a shame it’s not a masquerade ball,” Renly lamented as Loras ran his hands appreciatively over the heavy fabric. “I always think those rather lovely.”

Loras snorted. “A masquerade ball? Why should we wish to hide our faces? Masquerade balls are for homely people.”

Renly laughed. “I’d never thought of it like that.” He supposed that it would be a bit of a shame to have to hide his wonderfully good looks for an entire evening. It certainly would be a huge shame if he had to go the whole evening without looking upon Loras' face. He imagined he'd still look pretty glorious in a mask, but it was always nice to be able to see all of Loras' handsome features. What he could see now was even better. Loras was still as bare as he was, and Renly just smiled as he pulled Loras into his arms to kiss him. He imagined that they must make a very odd sight indeed, both naked in front of his wardrobe and locked in each other’s embrace.

………..

Renly had only been in his chambers for a couple of hours since the tourney ended, but Highgarden had been truly transformed by the time he made his way down to the feast. It was a veritable fairy tale, with thousands of candles lighting up the gardens, their glow glittering everywhere he looked and making the petals of the flowers sparkle as they closed for the night. The walkways had been strewn with wild-flowers, and even the air seemed magical- sweet, with not just with the fragrance of roses, but with rich incenses from Myr, Volantis and Pentos. The archways too had all been hung with exotic fabrics which one had to sweep aside or duck under if one wished to pass through. Some were silky, like water under Renly’s fingers, but others were heavy and rich, hung with golden tassels or gemstones. And even now, the soft sound of violins and harps drifted through the gardens on the wind.

In several of the gardens that Renly passed through, he was surprised to see dozens of peacocks strolling in among the roses. They'd evidently been released especially for the ball and Renly admired their magnificent plumage. As they strutted around, fluffing out their feathers, he was reminded a little of Loras when he did his celebratory lap of the lists after each successful tilt. He didn't have long to stand and admire them, though, and so quickly, he continued on his way to the feast.

When he arrived, the great hall was just as magnificent. The chandeliers had been hung with wreaths of roses and petals were scattered across even the tables. All of the Tyrells save Margaery stood at the door to greet their guests, and Renly had to do a double take when he saw Loras. The cloth of his doublet was a rich amber, of such a sort that Renly had never seen. The colour was deep and rich, dyed to perfection no doubt by a master of fabrics far across the narrow sea. It wasn’t the fabric itself, though, which was truly remarkable; it was the astonishing way that it brought out the colour in Loras’ eyes. Always unusually beautiful, they were now veritable pools of liquid gold, gleaming like a cat’s eyes in the candlelight. He seemed too to have forgotten his feud with Garlan at least for the moment, for they stood side by side amiably.

It was Mace Tyrell who greeted Renly, his sons silently flanking him with their perfect smiles. Loras’ smile was particular dazzling and Renly just grinned back at him as he was shown to his seat by one of the many serving girls. Even those seemed to have been incorporated into the magic of the ball, and in the stead of their usual plain black attire, they were draped with pale green silks and had daisies in their hair.

Renly was pleased to see that he’d been sat on the high table, and judging from how he was almost central, he suspected that Loras had probably wrangled it so that they could sit beside each other. He probably wouldn’t have had to try too hard, Renly thought. He was easily the most important person in attendance and there would have been uproar had he not been given a seat of honour on the high table.

It didn’t take long for the hall to fill up and looking around, Renly could see that everyone had the most delighted of smiles on their faces, giddy perhaps on the mood of the evening.

Loras seemed particularly cheerful and he grinned at Renly as he took a seat next to him. “What did you think of Highgarden?" he asked. "Margaery and I spent ages planning how to decorate it."

Renly laughed, shaking his head fondly. "I think you did brilliantly. It's simply magical. In fact, the only person I think who could have done a better job is me."

Loras rolled his eyes. "As if."

"Tell me," Renly grinned. "The peacocks? Your idea right?"

"How did you know?" Loras laughed. "Did you like them?"

"I did," Renly told him. "They're very pretty. Very nice feathers, wonderful plumage."

Loras smiled at him and merely poured them both a cup of wine. They fell silent then, watching the serving girls lead the guests that were still standing to their seats. Looking around, Renly tried to see if there were any better dressed men than him, and he was pleased to see that they were not. Indeed, the only contender would be Loras. He sighed to himself then as he thought what an attractive pair they must make, if a rather unconventional one that would leave people pointing and laughing if they knew the truth.

Everyone was seated by the time that Margaery made her entrance. She came in through a back door, slipping in almost apologetically and Renly thought it the perfect ploy. She had everybody’s eyes on her, and yet by not using the grand main doors, nobody could accuse her of courting the attention. Regardless, she was worthy of that attention, and in a dress of the palest ivory silk, she all but shone in the shimmering candlelight as she made her way to her seat. She wore her hair loose down her back in a tumble of curls and about her shoulders, she had draped the most exquisite shawl of rose petals. As she got closer, Renly could see that each individual petal had been sewn to the next with the finest of threads.

She was truly a vision and Renly was almost oddly proud when she sat but a seat away from him, in between Loras and their father. Every single man in the hall’s eyes were following her longingly, and Renly knew that it would not go unnoticed that, disregarding her close family, he was the man sat closest to her. He could feel the envious stares even now.

Mace Tyrell stood then, saying a few words of welcome before wishing his daughter a happy name day. In unison, everyone stood to raise their glasses in a toast. Nobody drunk more deeply than Loras, and Renly nudged him pointedly, grinning.

“Careful there,” he whispered. “I know how useless you are at holding your liquor.”

Loras just rolled his eyes as everyone sat back down. “I’ve my mother two seats away to mother me. I don’t need you to do that too.”

Renly smiled. “Fine.” He raised his glass again and knocked it against Loras’. “To your victory then, and to your sister’s name day. She looks truly beautiful tonight.”

“Of course she does,” Loras scoffed. “She’s my sister.”

Loras was evidently in a very good mood, and under the table he was very affectionate. He sat so close that his thigh was almost constantly pressed against Renly’s, and occasionally, he’d reach slyly down to hold his hand. He seemed drunk on his victory and Renly just had to smile at his antics. It reminded him somehow of when he’d first taken Loras into his bed, and the two of them hadn’t been able to keep their hands off each other, desperate to touch everywhere and anywhere.

The first courses arrived soon, and Renly didn’t waste any time in having the serving girls pile his plate high with brandy soaked plums and tender veal. It was so tasty that Renly was only vaguely aware of one of the servants sidling in through a back door and making his way over to Mace Tyrell.

“My lord,” the servant whispered, and his voice was so urgent that Renly’s attention was roused. “We have an unexpected guest.”

“An unexpected guest?” Mace Tyrell just laughed loudly, waving the servant’s words aside. He looked around the room, evidently surveying the guests. “But everyone invited is present. Save for the king and his party who declined." He frowned, popping a plum into his mouth. "If they have no invitation then you shall turn them away.”

The servant nodded and yet this guest apparently had no desire to be turned away. The main doors to the hall were flung open suddenly in unison, and several of the guests jumped in fright. Even the band stopped playing, the fiddler playing a few solo squeaky notes before he too put down his instrument.

“Lord Mace,” a silky voice said as a figure appeared in the open door, and just like that every single guest in the hall fell silent. “I dare say the raven carrying _my_ invitation to this lovely gathering of yours must have lost its way.”

Loras' father just gulped, and putting down his fork, rose to speak.


	94. Chapter 94

The silence that filled the hall was deafening. Everyone was still, silent, their breath held in unison as if by agreement, and their cutlery suspended awkwardly in mid-air. Only Horras and Hobber Redwyne broke ranks and the scraping of their knives against their bronze plates was painful to the ears, shrill and loud. Even Mace Tyrell seemed bound by the silence, and he merely stood, his face turning redder and redder as words evidently formed in his mouth but never escaped from his lips.

“Well?” The Dornish prince asked, his voice dangerously soft. He was not a particularly big man but he stood as a giant before them, towering in the open doorway as his blood red cloak billowed out behind him in the wind. 

Mace Tyrell choked on his words once more, and slowly, the heir to Highgarden stood up beside his father. "Prince Oberyn," he said, and Willas' voice rang loudly and clearly across the hall even though he was unsteady on his feet. "Pray join us." There was no lie in his words, no false pretences that Highgarden had intended to welcome him to their halls. There was only a simple invitation to join them, and Renly watched with baited breath to see if it were one that Prince Oberyn would accept.

"Highgarden is too kind." Oberyn's reply was spoken softly but there was no doubt that everyone had heard. There was a bitter edge too to his voice and Renly found that it sent unwelcome shivers down his spine. The last dealings he'd had with the Dornish prince had involved a rather unfortunate letter in which Renly had had to inform him that Robert was unwilling to trial Ser Gregor Clegane for the rape and murder of his sister. Needless to say, Oberyn had never deigned to send a reply and Renly was now not in any hurry to cross paths with him ever again. 

It was then that Mace Tyrell finally seemed to regain his composure, and he nodded along in a very overstated cheerful way. "Of course," he said, gesturing a little wildly around the hall. "Welcome."

What followed was a very uncomfortable few minutes where the servants quickly tried to make room for the Dornish prince and his party on one of the tables. Clearly, nobody knew whether they had leave to begin eating again and a tense sea of whispers rippled from guest to guest as the gossip no doubt began to circulate.

"He was never invited was he?” Renly whispered in Loras’ ear.

Loras wasn’t quite scowling- there were too many people for him to do that- but he was frowning quite visibly. He was evidently displeased. "Of course not,” Loras hissed. “Why would we invite him to this one when he crippled my brother in the last one?”

"Yes, but I'd have thought you'd have invited him anyway and just assumed it was unlikely he'd come."

"That's what you did for your tourney at Storm's End," Loras replied bluntly. "And he did come. In fact you took one of his squires to bed remember?"  
.  
"For the last time, I did not take him to bed," Renly hissed under his breath. They were talking very quietly but still, he'd have rathered that this conversation had not been had at the dinner table. It was hardly appropriate, even if they were going to lengths to prevent anyone overhearing. 

"Inconsequential details," Loras said dismissively. He then swivelled round to peer at the group of Dornish men who were currently being hurriedly served by the serving girls. "Is he here now? Which one is he?"

Renly just sighed and ran a hand through his hair in frustration. He'd managed over two years now without Loras and the Dornish boy ever crossing paths, and he'd rather planned on keeping it like that. Loras had been but twelve when those events had occurred, and whilst Renly personally thought that enough time had passed for any reasonable person to forgive and forget, he didn't have high hopes in regards to Loras. Reluctantly though, he turned to survey the ten strong or so escort that the Dornish prince had brought with him. It didn't take him long to spot who Loras was asking him to look for. He hadn't changed much in the two and half years, and his eyes were just as strikingly blue, and his face just as handsome, although now bearded. He was objectively comely and Renly didn't think Loras would like the look of him one bit.

"I don't think he's here," he said mildly, picking up his knife and cutting his lamb into smaller pieces.

His lie was met with Loras pinching his thigh very painfully under the table. " _Liar_ ," Loras hissed as Renly did his best not to let his eyes water. "Now tell me the truth or next time it'll be something else that I pinch. Which one of them is it?"

"The one next to him," Renly admitted reluctantly but very hastily considering the fact that Loras' hand was sliding up his thigh. "On the right."

Loras peered for a while and then cocked his head. "Daemon Sand?" Loras asked. "Seriously? You went to bed with Daemon Sand?"

"How do you know his name?" Renly asked, nodding miseraby. He hadn't even known his name, a fact that a very long time ago now, he remembered Loras being disgusted at him for.

"He's one of the best swords in Dorne, of course I know who he is." Loras stared at him curiously for a good couple of seconds and then shrugged. "All right then. You can relax now. I shan't be pinching you again."

"That's it?" Renly dared ask, still feeling a little tense. "It's over?"

Loras frowned. "What did you think I was going to do? Knock over the table and challenge him to a duel?"

"Well," Renly admitted. "Possibly something a _little_ like that."

Loras just rolled his eyes and swivelled round to try and listen to something his sister was in the process of telling Garlan. Renly felt he could relax then, and the relief was almost enough to make him go floppy in his chair and slide onto the floor. He was still a little taken aback at quite how well Loras had taken that, but he supposed that it probably had something both to do with him still being in a good mood from his victory and him not wanting to ruin the evening of his sister's name day by quarrelling with him. The wine might have helped too. Loras had had enough of it to be less uptight, but not enough that he'd completely lost his sense of judgement. 

The rest of the feast passed surprisingly without incident and by the time that the serving girls began clearing away the empty platters, enough flagons of wine had definitely been drunk for everyone to forget about the uncomfortable interruption made by their Dornish guests. Even Loras was still in good spirits, particularly good spirits perhaps, his cheeks rosy from the arbour red he'd been drinking. In fact, as Loras reached to pour himself another glass, Willas evidently thought it not appropriate and very surreptitiously reached for the flagon first, emptying the rest of it into his glass. Everybody save Loras clearly saw what he'd done and Garlan just grinned at Renly when Loras shook the empty flagon as if he couldn't understand how it was suddenly empty.

"Don't let him have any more," Garlan mouthed at Renly over the table and putting his hand over his own glass to demonstrate what he meant.

Renly just laughed and nodded. He knew best of all how quickly Loras could turn from being simply merry to being a little bit of a mess. He remembered well the night that he and Loras had departed from Storm's End before Loras had been knighted. They'd only had a few flagons between them but Loras had ended up sobbing into his shoulder before the night was out. The night that stood out best to Renly, however, was the one where Loras had found himself the object of a tavern wench's affections. Renly distinctly remembered he and Penrose having to carry Loras up the stairs and put him to bed.

Luckily, though, Renly didn't need to intervene quite yet. Garlan was standing up to speak and Loras seemed distracted enough for the moment. They both listened then as Garlan explained how the ball was laid out across the entirety of the castle grounds. It sounded truly magnificent, with all sorts of exciting things that Renly wished to see. There would be musicians dancing in several of the larger gardens, and fools in others, and apparently they had even hired a man from Qarth who claimed to do magic tricks. Later, there would be dancing in the hall too, once the tables had been cleared, and Renly thought that too would be wonderful, for usually they had to make do with but a small section of a hall for dancing.

Indeed, everyone seemed eager to exit the hall then, and Renly rose eagerly too. He had no idea what he wished to see first, but Loras and Margaery seemed to, and so Renly just followed them happily out of the hall, hoping they wouldn't mind him tagging along with them.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Most of the guests seemed to make their way along the main corridor, but Loras and Margaery led him a different way, ducking under a heavy purple and silver fabric and leading Renly into one of the smaller gardens. Both of them seemed as excited as Renly was, their eyes shining in the glittering candlelight.

"What are you in such a hurry to see," Renly asked, laughing as Margaery reached out for his hand to pull him along. It was quite sweet really. she was skipping quite fast on her dainty little legs and Renly only had to stride a little faster to keep up with her. He supposed that that was one of the advantages of being tall, and he imagined too that that was one of the appeals of women for normal men. Margaery was so small that Renly would have almost been able to put her in his pocket. He supposed there must be some appeal in quite how fragile women could be, in their sweet little hands and feet and in the way that you had to be gentle with them.

"You'll have to wait and see," Margaery told him. "Father had it brought specially from Essos though so that I could see it."

And just like that, she and Loras led him through the veritable maze of Highgarden, and Renly found himself ducking under jewelled fabrics and climbing through tiny gaps in hedges as Loras and Margaery seemed to lose themselves in their excitement. It was all a blur of colour and Renly would have liked to stop and admire the array of beautiful things he passed. There was no time, though, and soon it became clear that Margaery and Loras had found the garden they were looking for.

There was a small pen in this garden, and tethered inside it was a horse like none Renly had ever seen, save in the books that he'd been read as a child. It was built as any horse might be, with four legs and a sleek body, but instead of being black, or brown, or white, it was covered head to toe in stripes.

"It's a zorse," he laughed.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Margaery sighed. "I've wanted to see one since I was a little girl."

Renly just grinned. He himself was often called frivolous, but he'd never gone quite this far. He could just imagine Stannis' face had he been here to see what Mace Tyrell had had brought over for his daughter. He imagined that no amount of begging from little Shireen would allow her to have a kitten of her own, let alone see something so exotic.

The horse's handler too was exotic and Renly imagined he came from far over the narrow sea too. He was dark and swarthy, and clad in strange clothes of which Renly had never seen the like.

"Can we pet it?" Margaery asked him politely, and he gave a nod to show that he understood. She didn't waste any more time after that, and she reached out a hand, tracing the animal's stripes with her dainty fingers. She looked a little awed, but what struck Renly the most was the look on Loras' face. He was evidently quite enamoured with the zorse too, but right now he was watching it rather warily despite the fact that he'd had quite a bit to drink, eyeing it up suspiciously in case it's hooves got anywhere near his precious sister's face. That was surely what the handler was there for, but Renly knew that Loras would be trusting no stranger with his sister.

Renly stood and watched until Margaery beckoned him forward. "Isn't it beautiful," she sighed as Renly stepped forward to stroke it too. It was very soft, and it was evidently very domesticated for it laid its nose against Reny's arm in quite a friendly manner, Renly thought. Loras seemed to relax a little then, and he put out a hand to touch it too, putting his hand so close to Renly's that their fingers were almost touching. 

"I'm surprised you're not already planning to ride one of these in your next tourney," Renly jested to Loras. He could just see it now- the small folk gasping in awe as Loras appeared on the striped thing in front of him. It would cause quite an uproar, Renly thought.

"Well apparently they're not very fast," Loras told him with a smirk. "I had thought about it."

"Of course you had." Margaery said fondly. She patted Loras' arm with a smile. A crowd of lords and ladies had gathered now behind them, and Margaery stepped back so that a girl Renly recognised as one of Margaery and Loras' cousins could pet the creature. She wasn't quite tall enough to pat its nose and so Loras lifted her up, making her giggle.

Loras held her up until she'd stroked its nose for a few minutes before he then set her back down and surreptitiously pulled Renly away from the group gathered. "Come on," he whispered. "Why don't we find another flagon of wine and somewhere a little more private?"

Renly just grinned at him, and let Loras tug on his doublet and pull him back through the gap in the hedge. It was only once he was through that he noticed that there'd been a dark pair of eyes watching them from within the crowd, and once more Renly felt as if he'd had icy cold water poured down his back. Glancing at Loras' though, he evidently hadn't noticed, and by the time Renly had peered back through the gap in the hedge towards the gaggle of lords and ladies, he could no longer see Prince Oberyn, and his black shining eyes had disappeared into the shadows.


	95. Chapter 95

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry- I know it's been a week!

There was no sign of Prince Oberyn as Loras led him away towards one of the other gardens, and Renly began to wonder whether he was reading too much into the viper's presence there. The garden had been packed to bursting with lords and ladies gathered to see the exotic animal from Essos and there was no reason why Oberyn might not have remained in the garden for the same reason that everyone else had, rather than out of some malicious intent. Moreover, for all his venom, Oberyn struck Renly as a cultured, refined man, with exotic tastes. It was not out of place that he should want to lay eyes upon a zorse, and Renly supposed he was probably being self-indulgent in imagining that he had had some part in drawing the viper there.

All the same, he couldn't shake the feeling that Oberyn had indeed been watching them, purposefully so and not merely by chance. He didn't say anything to Loras though, even despite the fact that Loras had been astonishingly reasonable upon seeing the Dornish boy at the feast.

“You surprised me today,” Renly commented though as they walked, thinking Loras probably deserved a little more recognition for that. “I expected you to fly into a temper earlier with that Ser Daemon Sand in the hall. But you didn't, and really Loras, I was pleasantly surprised."

Loras shrugged. “I’m fine," he muttered. "I get it, you took a fancy to another man before me. I can handle that.”

"Can you really though?" Renly pressed. Loras' words didn't quite sound right to Renly's ears, and Renly wondered if Loras was forcing himself to be on his best behaviour. And as shameful as it was, a part of Renly felt just a tiny flicker of disappointment that Loras wasn't being territorial as he usually was. It could be embarrassing, and even lead to them quarrelling, but the self-indulgent part of him very much enjoyed Loras' bursts of jealousy, and the way Loras would warily watch another man in case he got too close to what Loras thought of as his. Renly supposed he ought not to be surprised though. Loras was irritatingly unpredictable in when jealousy would strike him. He'd turn practically green with envy sometimes, and yet others, he'd sit as cool as a cucumber, as confident in the fact that Renly loved him as anybody could possibly be. Still, Renly hadn't found any way to predict which colours Loras decide to show on any particular occasion. 

"Of course I can handle it," Loras insisted. "In fact, I'll _prove_ to you that I can stomach the thought of you with somebody else." They'd reached a garden now where several fools were juggling oranges and Loras sat down on a bench at the very back of the garden, beckoning for Renly to join him. "So, Renly, do you want to play a game?" 

"A game?" Renly queried a little suspiciously as he sat down. "What sort of game?" They were almost tucked in amongst the flowers here and the noise from the jugglers was so loud that Renly was quite satisfied that their conversation would be drowned out.

"A game of Margaery's," Loras told him cheerfully, and Renly found he felt inexplicably worried at the prospect of any game favoured by Loras' sister. "She plays it with her handmaidens when she's bored when they’re out. It amuses her you see." A serving girl approached them then with a wooden tray laden with wine, and Loras helped himself to a flagon and two cups, passing one of them to Renly.

"So what do you have to do in this game of Margaery's?" Renly asked, feeling a nervous lump come to his throat. He accepted the wine though and took a sip.

"Well," Loras said, taking long drink out of his cup of wine. "One of us chooses three people, and the other then must decide out of the three which one he should like to bed, which one he should like to marry, and which he you should very much like to push off the Wall.”

“Loras!” Renly supposed he shouldn't be surprised at how improper this game sounded. For all her sweet smiles and gentle demeanour, it was clear to him that Margaery Tyrell had a little bit of a vindictive streak. Oddly, he thought, she was more like Loras than she let on, and he suspected that Loras and Margaery spent many an evening plotting together, whispering in each other's ears all the horrible things they no doubt thought about other people. He wondered too if they'd ever discussed him, something which was more than likely and yet that Renly didn't like to dwell on too much.

Loras shrugged, grinning wickedly. “Do you want to play or not?”

“Of course I want to play, but still! It's a bit of a mean game don't you think?

Loras laughed and finished his cup, dangerously quickly, Renly thought. “All right then, let us start with-” he trailed off, and scanned the crowd, seemingly for inspiration, and Renly held his breath to see who he would pick. “Lord Tarly, my uncle Paxter, and Ser Guyard.”

"Seriously?" Renly asked, making a face. "But they're all men. I can't marry any of them."

“ _Well use your imagination_ ,” Loras told him mockingly, rolling his eyes. “You do have an imagination don't you?”

His voice sounded quite unlike him and it was only after a little reflection that Renly cottoned on. "Was that supposed to be an impression of me?" he laughed, a little affronted. "I don't sound anything like that."

"Yes you do," Loras smirked. He gave a deep exaggerated sigh that Renly knew was also supposed to sound like him. "Now I'm going to be on my way now. I'll probably be busy sleeping until noon and taking boys to bed just because they are there, whilst I fret over tiny inconsequential things." He looked up at Renly with fake sincerity etched upon his handsome face. "Did they see us? Did they hear us? Gods Loras, what are we going to do? I think someone saw me pass you in the corridor. Obviously they now know what we do at night. And they're going to tell everyone, until everyone is screaming it from Dorne to the Wall."

"I am not like that," Renly insisted, ignoring the nagging feeling at the back of his mind that told him he was probably a little bit like that.  
  
"Yes you are," Loras told him shortly. "Now stop worming your way out of this. I've given you three people. _Choose_."

Renly sighed and looked around the garden as he tried to make his decision. Loras had chosen three men who were within a ten foot radius of them, and Renly grimaced as he saw the deep frown lines that sat either side of Lord Tarly's down-turned mouth. Paxter Redwyne wasn't any comelier either. He was almost bald, his shiny head dotted with tufts of carrot coloured tufts of fuzz. He stooped as he walked despite being no older than Loras' father. Ser Guyard was the only one pleasing to the eye out of the three, and Renly had to laugh at the imagined prospect of removing his bright green cloak and flinging it carelessly onto the floor of his chambers as he leant in for a hypothetical kiss.

“Fine," Renly laughed. "Well, lord Tarly must go off the Wall,” he decided. “And then I would take Ser Guyard to bed, and marry Paxter Redwyne. At least it would be a merry marriage, and I could get up every morning with a cup of Arbour red and admire my fleet of ships.”

"True," Loras conceded. "But you surprise me. I’d have thought you’d have married Ser Guyard?”

Renly just looked at him gravely. "I'll be honest with you, that he's comely is true, but his singing might be too much to get through, and I might instead hit him with a.... with a shoe?"

Loras laughed. "You know Renly, I think you might actually be worse at rhymes than Ser Guyard."

"Yes, but he prepares his," Renly protested, nudging Loras in the shoulder. He quickly looked around to give Loras his list of three men. Lord Tarly's grim face and lord Paxter's orange tufted scalp still lingering in his mind, he settled on three people he knew would disgust Loras. "Tarly's fat son," Renly started triumphantly. "Grandison, and Penrose." He settled back against the back of the bench to see what Loras would make of that.

“Urgh, unfair,” Loras made a very undignified noise that didn't suit him in the slightest and Renly grinned at his displeased expression. “I gave you at least one person who was decent looking. But, with that unsightly lot, I’d have to say that I'd push Piggy off the wall. He might actually even survive the fall," Loras jested, pointing cruelly over in his direction. "He's that fat that he might bounce and roll. I shall then bed Grandison quickly in the dark, painfully hopefully, and I suppose I’d have to wed Penrose.” He sounded a little disgusted at himself. "At least then, though, I could reside in Storm's End and have midnight trysts with you."

Renly grinned. He could just imagine that now. “Well the two of you bicker like an old married couple anyway. Nothing might change.”

Loras just gave him a mocking grimace. “Yours then. My two brothers, and my sister.”

“Family should not be allowed.” Renly protested indignantly. He imagined that even him hypothetically pushing Margaery off the Wall would make Loras fly into a rage.

Loras raised an eyebrow though. “There are no rules,” he told Renly smugly, passing him the flagon of wine as if it might help him think, or at least move on from the fact that Margaery's ruthless game had no rules.

Renly sighed and took a gulp of the wine. “Well I have to marry your sister as she’s a lady, then.” He thought hard. "I'm afraid I shall push Garlan off the wall and bed Willas, as I at least I know he shall keep quiet about it.” It was odd to even think about Loras' siblings in jest like that, and the thought made Renly's skin crawl a little.

“Sounds fair,” Loras admitted. He gave a slightly bitter laugh. "I think I'd push Garlan off the wall too after that trick he played."

"Talking of fair," Renly laughed. "Your turn. Stannis, Robert, and Tywin Lannister.”

Loras glared at him. “Fine,” he said shortly. “I shall hurl Stannis off the wall, bed your eldest brother in a drunken haze and wed Tywin for his money.” He turned to watch the fools for a while. They'd stopped juggling in favour of swallowing swords and whilst everyone around them was gasping and applauding, transfixed by what they saw, Loras didn't seem all too impressed. He just watched them disdainfully as if what they were doing was easy. He evidently hadn't forgotten about their game, though, for after a few more unimpressed glances he turned back to Renly. “Jaime Lannister, Beric Dondarrion, and myself.” he shot back.

“Well that's really not fair at all,” Renly laughed quietly. “Now I’ve got three very handsome men. Aren't I allowed to sleep with both Jaime Lannister and Beric Dondarrion?” 

“What about me?” Loras protested. There was a whining edge to his voice that made Renly smile. This was the territorial and slightly jealous Loras that he knew and loved.

“Well I shall be marrying you. I'll be able to make love to you whenever I like.”

It was all pretend, make-believe, but Loras smiled so brightly at those words that Renly almost wished it could be true. 

 

* * *

 

There was dancing after that, lots of dancing, and Renly thought Loras was very lucky not to have missed any of the steps. Somehow though, he ploughed on, elegantly putting one foot in front of the other and lapping up women's praise of him as if he hadn't drunk more than was wise. Being on the precautious side though, Renly thought he probably should intervene when Lady Taena Merryweather started pressing her breasts seductively against Loras' chest, a gesture that Loras didn't even seemed to have noticed, for he just kept smiling courteously at her.

"Enough is enough," Renly told him as he surreptitiously marched Loras off of the immaculate lawn that was being used for dancing. "You're coming with me and you are sobering up."

"I'm not even in my cups," Loras protested, looking furtively back at a gaggle of girls who had all hoped to claim dances with him. He didn't seem to care overly much though, and when he turned back to Renly, he was grinning at him like the cat that got the cream.

"No?" Renly questioned. "Then why are you grinning at me like a fool?" 

"I don't know," Loras admitted. He dropped his voice down to a very low whisper. "Because I love you maybe?"

Renly smiled and pulled Loras through one of the draped archways, a silvery fabric this time that felt like water as it brushed over Renly's face. It led into a part of Highgarden that Renly knew well, and yet he was disappointed to find that the wrought iron door that opened out into the sweet little garden with the two swings was locked when he pushed against it. "A shame," he lamented to Loras. "I'd have very much liked to see you drunk on that swing of Margaery's."  
  
Loras rolled his eyes at him even as he gripped Renly's arm for support. "Well luckily for you, Renly," he grinned. "I know where the key is." Looking very wobbly, he bent down and picked up a large rock that lay in the flowerbed. Underneath it was a rather rusty key. "And here you go," he said, presenting it to Renly with an exaggerated flourish that reminded Renly of how he presented his tourney roses. 

The door unlocked easily and Renly made sure to lock it behind them in case any guests strayed out here too. Loras seemed to have taken his words to heart and by the time Renly was done with the door, he was sitting on Margaery's swing, holding onto the rope with only one hand and smiling widely at him. Rather glad that the swing wasn't too high off the ground, Renly went over to him, going to stand behind him. Smiling too, he bent to kiss the top of Loras' curly head, feeling a sudden rush of affection. 

"Want me to push you?" he asked, doing his best not to move when Loras leant lazily back against his chest.

"All right," was Loras' answer and Renly gave the swing a very gentle push, amused when Loras found himself suddenly having to balance on his own. Clumsily, he grasped at the ropes at either side, almost toppling off the elaborately engraved wooden seat in the process. He wasn't quite drunk enough to tolerate Renly laughing at him though, and he peered round to glare at Renly once he evidently felt he was no longer in danger of falling. "Laugh, why don't you?" he retorted. "It's not that easy. I'd like to see you try."  
  
Renly just chuckled. "Fine then," he said. Bending, he picked Loras up as he would a maiden, sitting down in his place and settling Loras on his lap. Loras didn't seem to mind, but he took a while getting comfortable, eventually swivelling round to face him and wrapping his legs around Renly's waist. He actually seemed more stable there, and holding him firmly in place with one of his arms, Renly pushed off the ground a little, smiling when he succeeding in swinging them back and forth in a straight line. "See," he grinned. "Look who's brilliant at this!"

"Mmm," Loras simply hummed. He just pushed himself a little closer, as if he was entirely unaware that Renly's arm was the only thing stopping him from toppling to the ground. Perhaps he was, Renly mused, but he didn't get the time to ask, because before Renly could push off the floor to swing them gently for a second time, Loras was pressing tiny little kisses to the corners of his mouth, and as he ground his hips into Renly's, Renly felt him grow quickly hard agaisnt his stomach, his cock warm and solid through his clothes.

Decidedly, Renly put his feet back on the floor. Loras seemed to sense he was suddenly more stable, and unwrapping his arms from around Renly's shoulders, he tangled his fingers in Renly's hair, tilting his face to catch Renly's lips for a kiss. Renly just smiled into it fondly, and quite honestly, he had no idea how long they stayed like that, one of Loras' hands cupped warmly around the back of his neck and the other in his hair as they kissed. Even so, Renly reckoned he would have missed the whole ball for it if he'd had to. Loras was unusually generous with his kisses, and soon there was not a part of Renly within his reach that he hadn't pressed a hot wet kiss to, or nipped at affectionately. 

"Please?" Renly laughed softly, holding on to the rope of the swing tightly to keep his balance as Loras unbuttoned his doublet, bending his head to suck a fresh purple bloom just underneath his collarbone. 

"Please what?" Loras mumbled against his skin, his breath hot against his skin and paradoxically perhaps, making shivers run up and down Renly's spine.

"Please let me make love to you?" Renly mumbled back almost as incoherently, putting a gentle hand underneath Loras' chin to tilt his face up towards his for another kiss. "I want you so much."

Loras whimpered and pushed himself closer even though he shook his head rather fiercely, making the swing wobble from side to side. "No," he breathed.

" _But why_?" Renly whined. 

Loras just laughed, his eyes sparkling. "Because it'll make me sticky for the rest of the evening. That's why." Slipping a hand between them to fumble at Renly's cock, he smiled slyly up at him. "Though feel free to let me fuck you."

Renly hadn't thought of that, and he was rather impressed with Loras' logic considering that he was both drunk and evidently as caught up in desire as Renly was. "Fine," he admitted, cupping Loras' face to better kiss his neck. "But please, Loras, give me _something._ " He didn't care what it was, but Renly knew that if he didn't feel either Loras' hand or his mouth around his cock soon, he'd probably be driven as mad as that chequered fool who had washed up on the beaches of Shipbreaker Bay.

Raking his hands through Renly's hair for a last time, Loras duly made to get off of Renly's lap. It wasn't quite clear whether he fell to the floor intentionally or accidentally, but then he was on his knees and fumbling with the laces on Renly's breeches, and so Renly decided it didn't really matter. He just sighed heavily to the empty garden as Loras drew his cock out of his breeches with an unusually clumsy hand. For once, though, he didn't tease, and he didn't take his painfully slow time. Instead, obediently, greedily almost, he bent his head to take Renly's cock into his mouth, the warm wetness making Renly tilt his head back in bliss. He didn't think he'd ever get tired of what Loras could do with his tongue and indeed, soon, Renly felt that familiar tug deep in his stomach and he knotted his fingers in Loras' hair, gripping the strands tightly as he shook out his release.

Loras collapsed back against the grass when he was done, his cheeks flushed a rosy pink even in the moonlight. Smiling, Renly joined him, not caring that the grass was a little damp against his back. Lazily, he pulled the laces out of Loras' breeches to stroke him to his own climax. Unsurprisingly, it didn't take long, and once they were both satisfied, Loras reached for his hand and together, they stared up absent-mindedly at the night's sky. The stars were out and the sounds of fiddles still carried on the breeze, and Renly couldn't help but think how perfect the evening was. 

"I'm glad you're here," Loras breathed softly, squeezing his fingers.

"Where else would I be?" Renly chuckled.

"I don't know," Loras admitted. "But I'm glad it's here."

"Me too," Renly agreed.

 

* * *

 

They didn't stay in the rose garden long and whilst Loras went off in search of his siblings, Renly went off in search of his own men, thinking it not wise that he and Loras were seen together for the entirety of the evening. He didn't have to search long, and next to a elegant trickling fountain, Renly found Penrose, a couple of men from the garrison from Storm's End standing a few feet away and laughing as a strange man in strange blue robes showed them magic tricks.

"Just who I was looking for," Renly laughed as he sat down next to his castellan. 

Penrose smiled dryly at him." Um Renly," he said pointedly. "You might want to....?"” He lifted a hand and flattened Renly's hair for him when Renly didn't get the message. 

Renly grinned and lifting his own hand, patted his hair down back into place. He'd quite forgotten how Loras had tangled it so, and he imagined that he'd given several of the guests a good laugh on his way here. It mattered not though, he supposed. Most would assume a romantic midnight tryst with a young lady, not with today's tourney champion.

“Can I ask what happened?” Penrose asked with a small smile. 

“Of course you can dear Penrose,” Renly laughed. He cast around for inspiration and settled upon one of the brightly coloured birds roaming around. “I was in the garden, and out of nowhere this huge peacock came flying at me, flapping its wings. I was quite frightened.”

“You were attacked by a peacock?” Penrose seemed amused.

“It was very distressing,” Renly told him gravely.

“What was distressing?” A small girl had skipped up the path, and Renly smiled as he made out Loras' sister. She'd lost her shawl of rose petals, and Renly was quite taken aback to see how low the neckline of her pale silk dress was, a little surprised that Mace Tyrell let her wear such a sultry gown. Then again, he supposed, it had always seemed that Margaery had most men, her father and her brothers included, wrapped very tightly around her little finger.

Even without the ostentatious shawl, she was a vision, and she sat like a goddess on the edge of the fountain, trailing her dainty hands in the sparkling water. She was truly beautiful, and Renly laughed silently to himself as he saw every man in the garden turn to watch her as if they were flowers turning to face the sun. Unfortunately though, there was no such warmth in Highgarden now. The sun had long set and without her shawl, Margaery looked almost naked in the cold night's air. The ivory silk of her dress skimmed over her soft curves like water and could offer no shelter from the chill, and Renly was unsurprised to see her shiver ever so slightly as she awaited his answer, making ripples in the fountain with her fingers.

“Nothing was distressing,” Renly told her, and feeling kind, he shrugged off his surcoat to drape around her shoulders. “I was just telling Ser Cortnay here how vicious those peacocks can be.”

“Vicious?” Margaery laughed softly, the sound not dissimilar to a faraway bell tinkling. “They’re very gentle.” She reached for his hand and led him over to one. It didn't have its tail out but even so Renly could make out the beautiful greens and blues in its plumage. 

Holding the hem of her dress, she bent down and held her hand out. The peacock approached quickly, inspecting her hand as if looking for food. When it found that she had nothing, it backed off, affronted, ruffling its feathers before unfurling its tail as if in offence. This was one truly magnificent and with its colourful tail out, Renly had to look up to see the tips of its feathers.

"You know Margaery," Renly smiled. "They remind me a little of your brother when they do that."  
  
Margaery giggled. "You're right," she agreed, pulling Renly's surcoat tightly around her shoulders. She evidently didn't need to ask which brother Renly was referring to. "The zorse has to go back to Essos," she told him. "But father says I can keep one of these." She looked up at him, a wicked look in her eyes. "Perhaps we should call it Loras."

"I think that would be a marvellous idea," Renly laughed. And looking about the garden, he couldn't help but smile. He might have had no interest in slipping the pale ivory gown from Margaery's shoulders, but all the same, he was the envy of every single man in sight.


	96. Chapter 96

Margaery and he admired the birds for a good long while before they set off in search of her siblings. They searched in all the likely places, high and low, but they didn't see hide or hair of them anywhere, until eventually, they spotted Margaery's mother and father walking through the of the candlelit corridors, hand in hand and looking quite the lord and lady of Highgarden. They apparently _had_ seen their sons, all three of them together to be precise, and happily, they pointed them in the direction that they'd last seen them head. _Too happily_ , Renly couldn't help but think, for Mace Tyrell quite evidently had done a double take when he'd seen Renly and Margaery together, his eyes lingering on the surcoat that Margaery still had draped round her shoulders and a small secret smile creeping onto his lips.

It was quite clear that the conclusion he was drawing pleased him greatly, and Renly did his best not to cringe as Mace Tyrell smiled joyfully at him, no doubt as wedding bells rang in his ears and he evidently did his best to stop himself rubbing his hands together in glee. Renly supposed that he should be glad that Mace Tyrell evidently didn't see why in fact that it was very unlikely he should have taken a fancy to Margaery, but he wasn't sure if the lord of Highgarden misguidedly believing that he might intend to marry his daughter was altogether preferable.

Renly tried not to dwell on it though, and neither did he reject the invitation to take Margaery's hand as they continued their search. It was in the directions of the Tyrells' private quarters that Mace Tyrell had waved them, and him and Margaery set off hopefully after them.

They were almost there when they spotted Garlan and Willas in one of the shady courtyards, leaning over something that they'd evidently put on one of the stone benches, Willas leaning heavily on his stick. As they got closer, Renly was a little taken aback to see that it was Loras that they were evidently bent over, his curls just visible at one end of the bench.

“Whatever is the matter with Loras?” Renly asked cheerfully as Margaery ran to him with a small laugh, sitting down on the bench and pulling Loras' head into her lap, cradling it in her arms. She didn't seem anxious, even as she fussed over him, and Renly too knew better than to let himself worry. Garlan and Willas wouldn't be standing idly around peering at him if there were something seriously amiss. 

Garlan's grin confirmed that too. “This thing?” He laughed heartily and shook Loras' shoulder. “Why, he’s drunk lord Renly.”

Renly smiled and bent down to peer at him too. He was slumped over the bench, his eyes shut and his curls falling over his face. "Celebrated his victory a little too much has he?” he asked. 

“You wouldn’t have thought so,” Garlan said with a low chuckle. “He can’t have had more than a few flagons, but yes it seems so."

“Is he passed out?” Renly shook Loras' shoulder too, unsurprised to see that that garnered no reaction. That seemed to amuse Margaery a little, and she smiled as she held Loras close, pressing a kiss into his hair.

“Passed out?" Garlan queried with a bark-like laugh. "Quite possibly he is. Or else he’s just so embarrassed about having been sick in the flowerbeds four times that he’s pretending to be.” He gave a wide smile. “Knowing Loras, it’s quite possibly the latter.” He patted his brother fondly on the head, ruffling his curls, a gesture which Renly took as definite proof that Loras was indeed passed out. There was no way that he'd have stood for Garlan treating him so much like an infant had he been aware of what was going on around him. Willas too reached out a hand to tuck a curl behind Loras' ear and Renly wondered whether this was the only chance that the two brothers got to be affectionate with Loras. Whilst Renly imagined that Loras would let himself and Margaery pull him around like a puppet and pet him as they liked, he suspected that this privilege didn't quite extend to Willas and Garlan.

“Poor thing,” Renly sighed, resisting the urge to rifle a hand through his curls as Garlan and Willas had done. “He never could hold his liquor.”

“Which is your fault I might add,” Garlan guffawed, his face breaking into a wide smile as he clapped Renly on the shoulder cheerfully. “We sent him off to Storm’s End expecting that he’d come back drinking like a Baratheon. And you sent us back _this_.” He pointed at Loras' slumped form and shook his head in displeasure.

Renly grinned. “Well we are the most spectacular drinkers," he conceded, thinking of the way Robert could quite happily drain a flagon of wine in one go before roaring to his squires for more. His elder brother might have been rather useless at running the kingdom and keeping his wife in check, but he certainly was good at holding his liquor. It was the Baratheon way, and whilst Stannis was not one to ever over-indulge, Renly had never seen the younger of his older brothers even nearing on being affected by a couple of cups of wine.

“Evidently not spectacular enough.” Garlan said though, a twinkle in his eye. “Or else you think it would have rubbed off on this mite here.” He gave Loras an rather rough thump on the shoulder that earned him a vicious glare from Margaery. "And hush you," he laughed down at his sister. "It might be your name day, but you be a good girl and run along and have your brother here sent some bread and water."

She didn't get up until Willas took her gently by the arm. "Come Margaery," he said quietly. "It's your name day, you should be dancing. I shall see to the bread and water, and Garlan here shall see to Loras." He led her away, and Renly thought it sweet to see that even little Margaery, so small that any one of them could have tucked her neatly under their arm, did her best to support Willas as he walked.

"So where were we?" Garlan chuckled once they'd disappeared into the corridor at the other end of the courtyard. "Ah yes, I was insulting your family's legendary talent at drinking."

Renly snorted. “Insult all you like," he laughed. "But I dare say you couldn't do better."

“Is that so?” Garlan grinned. He picked Loras up surprisingly gently as if his younger brother was made out of glass. “Well then, once we’ve put this rag doll here to bed, what say you to a drinking match? Me and you and a lot of wine?”

Renly laughed. “It’ll be you we’re putting to bed next then, but as you wish.” He was all too happy to oblige. Garlan was of a height with him and broader, but Renly knew that there was no way he could possible lose, not when he had the same blood as Robert throwing through his veins.

Garlan just grinned. He didn't have any trouble carrying Loras, and he even managed to open the door into the Tyrells' private quarters and Loras' own chambers one handed. He made it look easy and yet Renly knew from experience that Loras was a lot heavier than one would expect. He was very impressed, and he had to admire Garlan's strength as he carried Loras over to his bed and deposited him gently on top of the bedclothes. He then drew the deep green curtains around the bed, and beckoned to Renly that they might leave him in peace.

“Come find me in the dining hall then," he laughed as he shut the door to Loras' chambers quietly behind them. "I’m off to hunt down uncle Paxter’s finest vintage. Father will have holed it away somewhere, but he never is any good at hiding anything properly.”

“Well, prepare to lose.” Renly called after him, watching Garlan disappear round the corner before he turned back to re-enter Loras’ chambers. As silently as he could, so as not to disturb him, Renly found the gap in the curtains around Loras' bed and climbed through it. He didn't have curtains about his bed, and he wondered now whether he should get some. It was rather nice, he thought, like climbing into his and Loras' own little world. It was dark inside the curtains, and Renly could just make out Loras' form. Gently, he stroked a hand over Loras' face, shifting him slightly so that he could pull the bed covers up over him. He contemplated undressing him but all in all, the night was still young, and he supposed that it was quite possible that Loras would have a short little sleep and feel like rejoining the ball. 

Rejoining the ball was what he'd intended on doing himself, but Renly couldn't resist lingering a little while. Gently, he wrapped an arm around Loras' waist. It was only then that he grasped the true usefulness of having curtains that one could draw around his bed, for as he settled Loras against his chest behind the drapes, he heard the door creak open and a serving girl deposit something on the bedside table. The door clicked shut satisfyingly behind her, and then she was gone, not having suspected a thing.

Renly didn't bother retrieving whatever it was the serving girl had brought. Loras was too soft and warm against him for that, his curls tickling the underside of Renly's chin. Renly had only been lying there with him for a few minutes though when he started to become restless, shifting in Renly's arms and doing his best to roll over. Lifting his head off the pillows, Renly gave him a kiss on the forehead, laughing into Loras' hair when Loras groaned at that, his eyes fluttering open.

"Where are we?" he mumbled.

"In your bed," Renly laughed.

Loras nodded steadily and closed his eyes.

“Do you want me to stay?” Renly whispered.

“No it’s all right,” Loras muttered. “You go back to the ball. Leave me here. I don't want you to miss out because of me.”

“That’s mighty unselfish of you,” Renly laughed. “Very unlike you even. Now tell me, what's the real reason.”

"Fine," Loras groaned and it seemed Renly's scepticism had not been misplaced. “I don’t want you to see me like this. That's the reason." He gave a very feeble push against Renly's chest as if that would be enough to make him up and leave. Renly just smiled widely at the attempt. He was a little offended that Loras evidently thought him so easy to get rid of.

“Aw Loras,” Renly soothed, merely wrapping his arms more tightly around him. “You shouldn't fret over me seeing like this. You’re still handsome, beautiful even, and I will always want to see you regardless of what sort of state you are in.”

“Yes," Loras agreed. "but I’ve been sick three times. It’s disgusting.”

“Four times," Renly corrected with a grin. He just laughed as Loras groaned at his words, burying his face in Renly's chest as if he were ashamed. "But don’t worry Loras, it happens to best of us.”

“I've never seen you in such a state," Loras argued. "And you're always drinking."

"Ah yes," Renly pressed a kiss into Loras' hair as Margaery had done so sweetly earlier. "But that is because I learnt my lesson young, Loras. Before I had the good fortune to even know you existed.” He grinned, many memories coming flooding back, some fond, and some painful to reminisce on. "I'll tell you all about when I've got myself into such a state if you like? If it'll make you feel better?"

Loras nodded, and settling a few pillows against the headboard, Renly sat up. Once he was comfortable, he scooped Loras up into his arms and settled him between his legs, cradling him to his chest.

Loras laughed just softly, letting Renly pull him around with good grace in a way he never would have done had he been sober. “I’m too big for this," he protested. All the same, he leant his head against Renly's shoulder happily enough, tucking his face into the crook of Renly's neck and letting Renly slide a hand around his waist.

“Too big?” Renly wrapped his arms tightly around him and rubbed his likely very sore stomach with one of his hands. “You shall never be too big for this."

“All right,” Loras mumbled, making Renly smile. Reaching through the gap in the curtains, Renly fumbled around to find the plate the chambermaid had left on the bedside table. As he had suspected, it was the bread Garlan had suggested be sent up to Loras, and Renly grabbed a large chunk of it.

"Eat," he said, and duly Loras nibbled on it as he got comfortable again in Renly's arms.

"Now," Renly smiled, "Where to start then, with me getting myself into a state." He supposed the first incident was as good a place as any, and Renly sat for moment trying to remember the details, details with time had blurred more than a little bit. "Well," he started. "The first time couldn't have been more than a half year after the siege of Storm's End had been lifted. I was seven, eight maybe, and Robert had just named me lord a few weeks previous. We were having a feast, for Stannis I think, because he was preparing to make the permanent move to Dragonstone." He grinned. "Now Stannis, well being Stannis, he told me that I could eat whatever I liked from the table, _anything_ that I wanted, _except_ for the wine."

"And you didn't like being told that?" Loras mumbled against his shoulder.

"Not at all," Renly admitted. "I waited until Stannis had gone to bed before sneaking silently from my chambers. This was just after Penrose had been come to Storm's End to raise me, and oddly, I was more free in that fortnight that he and Maester Cressen were there together than I ever was when with but one of them. Neither of them seemed to know which of them was in charge of me you see, and so I grasped my opportunity with both hands, stealing like a mouse down the stairs and into the dark empty dining halls whilst the castle slept. I found a whole flagon, untouched, probably the one Stannis should have been drinking, and I tipped the whole lot down my throat."  
  
"Oh dear," Loras sighed. He lifted his head to look up at Renly. "Were you very ill?"

Renly nodded. "Some poor serving girl stumbled across me just before dawn and she took me up to Stannis. He had Maester Cressen see to me until I was well again, and then, because he believes in having punishments that fit the crime, he had me wash my mouth out with spiced rum that his onion knight had brought from the Summer Isles." Renly winced with the memory. "Have you ever had rum Loras?

Loras shook his head.

“Well it’s foul,” Renly told him. “Five times the strength of wine. It burns your mouth, and even though Stannis had me spit it out, the taste lingered for what felt like days." He grinned, and tucked one of Loras' curls behind his ear. "And I was definitely sick at least six times, if not more. So there, you have company."

But you were so young," Loras groaned. "It doesn’t count."

"When I was ten then," Renly laughed. "In those days, I spent almost half the year in the capital, and that year Robert decided that I was old enough for him to bestow what he called the most important thing he could teach me- _How to drink like a man._ "

Loras laughed, the sound vibrating softly against Renly's chest. "I can imagine him saying that," he breathed.

"I don't actually remember how much I drank that night, but I do remember Grand Maester Pycelle having to escort me from the hall." he sighed deeply. "It was awful. I wasn't at home, I had a strange nursemaid who I didn't know tending to me." He grinned down at Loras. "And I hope you know how lucky you are. Nobody came to soothe me and hold me in bed."

Loras snorted though, and that's when Renly knew that he was feeling a little revived. "Stop feeling sorry for yourself," he said, with more than a hint of disdain in his voice.

"Fine," Renly conceded with a grin. "But if that's how it is, I shall have to leave you then. I'm afraid I have a drinking match arranged with one of your brothers that I should probably be getting myself to."

Loras sat up a bit. "With Garlan?" He swallowed his piece of bread down almost whole. "Well I shan't miss that for the world." Evidently still quite a bit wobbly, he stumbled to his feet. "Now come on Renly, stop being lazy and get on your damn feet."

Renly just rolled his eyes and followed him out of the room.

 

* * *

Garlan had found a whole cask of wine and he poured some of it into two identical flagons when he saw Renly and Loras approach.

"You're still alive then?" Garlan jested, grinning at his younger brother and raising a mocking toast to him. 

Loras just gave him a disdainful glare before sitting down beside Willas and Margaery. It didn't seem that the Tyrell siblings were going to be their only audience either. A veritable crowd gathered as soon as Garlan set the flagons down on the table with a loud thump, and looking around Renly could recognise most of them. Ser Tanton stood on Garlan's left, looking ready to cheer him on like the supportive good-brother that he was. Next to him stood the Redwyne twins and behind them, stood virtually every young knight that belonged to the Reach. 

Renly's side of the table was far from empty though, and Renly grinned as Ser Guyard and Ser Andrew flanked him on either side. Alyn wasn't far behind him, and soon Renly spotted the face of almost every single man he'd brought with him from King's Landing, as well as all but the entire garrison at Storm's End. Even Penrose was there, and he sat off to the side, an amused expression on his face. His own men weren't the only guests on Renly's side though, and Renly grinned as he caught sight of many of his bannermen that had attended the tourney. Lord Beric was there, as was lord Bryce, and Renly saw too Ser Guyard's brother, lord Lester of Crow's Nest.

Renly watched to see which side Loras would align himself with and he had to fight to not roll his eyes when Loras followed his sister to stand beside Garlan. It seemed that his ongoing feud with Garlan aside, Loras was still a knight of Highgarden through and through.

"Lord Renly," Garlan laughed loudly. "Willas here is going to be overseeing our little tournament. He shall make sure it's fair." He raised his voice, speaking for the gathered men." Now, if any man here doubts my brother's honour, he shall speak now or he shall not speak at all."

There were a few shouts from Renly's side that Willas would favour naturally favour his brother but Renly raised his hand to hush them. "I do not doubt your brother's honour Ser Garlan." 

Willas smiled. "Then the rules Lord Renly, if you will?" Willas asked him quietly.

"Rules?" Renly frowned, doing his best to keep a straight face. "Well I don't know how you roses do it, but where we're from it's simple. We drink until one of us gives up." His words were met with loud cheers and Ser Guyard and Ser Andrew clapped him on the shoulder in unison. 

"Show those roses how it's done in the Stormlands," lord Bryce piped up from the back as Willas inspected the two flagons, making sure that the amount in them was equal.

"Now as you well know, lord Renly," Garlan told him with a grin. "I owe you fifty golds because I bet against the wrong man today. But, if you win our little match, maybe we should go a little higher."  He paused, his eyes twinkling. " _One thousand gold dragons_ to be precise." Immediately, the entire crowd around them fell silent for it was a huge wager, a colossal wager. "What say you to that?" Garlan boomed.

"Done," Renly said, and he thought he saw Penrose's face fall ever so slightly. "Now enough talk." He picked up the cup and drained it steadily to the sound of cheers and shouts from his men. Garlan did the same and together the two of them set their cups back loudly on the wooden table. 

It soon became clear that Garlan was good, sturdy, and very capable of drinking more than was sensible very quickly. Renly didn't fret though. He'd been taught by the best, and he knew that it took a lot to get him into his cups. Definitely more than it would take any brother of Loras'.

Indeed, they'd only drunk about five flagons each when Renly began to see the signs that Garlan was beginning to flag. The cheers were just as loud from his father's bannermen, but Garlan had lost the ability to drain a cup in one mouthful. Every new cup took him longer and longer and Renly just smiled slyly at him over the table. 

"Are you all right?" He asked sweetly, once he'd finished his flagon and Garlan was still only halfway through his. 

"Of course," Garlan said, garnering him a cry of support. "Are you?"  
  
"Do the Lannisters pay their debts?"  
  
Garlan grinned. "Understood." He turned to Willas, "If you will then brother." Duly, Willas poured two more flagons.

It had been clear to Renly himself even then, but soon it was clear to everyone gathered how this match was going to play out. By the time the next few flagons were emptied, Garlan was swaying slightly from side to side, Ser Tanton propping him up on one side, and a man with purple plums on his doublet that Renly didn't recognise propping him up on the other. He was quite clearly done for the night and the men from the Stormlands cheered loudly when eventually, Ser Garlan the Gallant put his head in his hands and let his goblet fall to the table. 

"Ser Garlan," Renly laughed triumphantly. "I'll be collecting my winnings tomorrow then if that's all right with you." 

Garlan just groaned, and Renly imagined that Loras was now not the only Tyrell who would be put to bed tonight.

 

* * *

 

Loras started falling asleep on his sister's shoulder shortly after Ser Tanton and the Redwyne twins had carried Garlan away, and whilst Margaery woke him quickly and took him to his chambers to save him from the embarrassment of everyone seeing how sweet and docile he looked when he slept, Renly didn't feel like joining him. The wine that had been enough to floor Garlan was only enough to put him in a particularly good mood, one of those moods which made him feel invincible, like he could walk on air. 

So instead, he danced. The musicians were still playing and the candles still sparkling, and there were abundant pretty young maidens begging for a handsome partner such as himself. And so, Renly indulged them all, letting them press against him without a fuss and smiling back down at them when they smiled up at him as chivalrously as Loras would have done. He didn't even care when the Dornish party joined the dancing, Oberyn Martell leading a very reluctant looking Margaery out for a dance, and whilst Renly knew that it was the wine making him feel like this, he didn't even find it in him to be anxious when he noticed both the Dornish prince and Ser Daemon Sand watching him rather intently as he danced.

In fact, he danced until his feet were sore and his shoes were scuffed. He danced until Taena Merryweather very unsubtly tried to take his hand as he partnered her and place it on her breast. It was then that Renly decided he needed to take a well deserved break, and stopping to catch his breath, he ventured outside for a little fresh air. 

He'd only planned to stand outside for a few moments to calm down but that all changed when lord Orton's wife, apparently persistent, followed him out of the hall. Renly saw her before she saw him, and thinking on his feet, he ducked into a nearby alcove, out of her sight. 

He stayed silent for a good few minutes, holding his breath so that she might not guess he was there. He thought his ploy had worked, and was just feeling ready to venture out when he heard a voice call his name.

"Lord Renly," the viper hissed, and Renly had had far too much wine now to think about being frightened. He was a little curious as to how he'd known he was there, but he supposed Prince Oberyn always had been a lot more cunning than Lady Taena Merryweather. His mind was sharp, honed to perfection like that deadly poisoned spear that he was known to carry.

"Yes?" Renly laughed, turning to face the Dornish Prince. "Now come, get to the point will you? What is it you want from me?" 

Oberyn merely regarded him for a few moments, his red cloak rippling slightly in the breeze as the prince looked thoughtful. " _Want_ ," he echoed softly, "I do not _want_ anything." He took a step towards Renly, so close that Renly could almost taste the scent of him on his tongue, and Renly couldn't help but close his eyes as he breathed it in. It was exotic, a mixture of spices and perfumes that Renly did not recognise, and it was quite different from how Loras smelt. That was familiar, comforting, but this was overpoweringly unfamiliar, strange to him, and Renly had to take a step back as he realised that he was tempted. It was a dangerous thought, even if Renly did know that his senses were clouded from too much wine.

"Why are you here then?" Renly asked warily, retreating as far back against the wall as he could.

Oberyn's black eyes met Renly's own. "I am merely here to extend an invitation if you will." 

"An invitation?" That piqued Renly's curiosity. It sounded exciting. "What kind of invitation?"  
  
A smirk played on Oberyn's twisted lips before he answered. "An invitation to join myself and Ser Daemon. I would introduce you lord Renly but I was led to believe that the pair of you are already acquainted. Is that not so?"

It took Renly a few moments for the pieces to fall into place, and he tried to take another step back when he realised quite what sort of invitation he was extending. "Right," he said uncomfortably, the stone wall cold against his back even through his clothes. "Well I thought that I had made it clear that-"  
  
Oberyn cut him off, and took another step closer. "I hadn't forgotten your little rose," he breathed. "The invitation was for him as well."  
  
Renly just gulped. As terrible as it was, shamefully delicious images were racing through his mind. 

"Ask him," Oberyn whispered. "I'll be awaiting your answer." With that, he turned his back, and by the time Renly had found the courage to glance up, he had slipped away into the night once more.

 

* * *

 

Renly had no desire to return to the ball after that, nor to Loras, and a sinking guilty feeling lingering in his stomach, he made his way to his chambers, barring the door and collapsing down onto the bed. He didn't bother undressing, nor getting under the sheets, he just lay there, staring up at the ceiling and dwelling on Prince Oberyn's proposition. To his surprise and his shame, the idea wasn't one that made his stomach turn, and yet the thought of putting the idea to Loras did. He'd have thought that the idea would have disgusted him, and maybe it would have done, Renly thought, had Loras not been a part of his imaginings. All in all, he supposed he'd never know why it appealed to him and he knew that if he were to be sensible about this, he'd forget he'd even spoken to Oberyn and never breathe a word of it to Loras.

It took him a while to clear his mind for sleep, and he was just eventually dropping off, when he was suddenly startled back into consciousness. A soft rap on the door had been the cause of it, and Renly sat bolt upright on his bed. Oberyn's words still rang in his ears, and part of him knew that when he opened the door, it would be the viper standing outside, his black eyes gleaming out of the darkness at him. 

He'd just decided not to open it, when whoever it was knocked again, louder this time. It was only then Renly realised that in all likelihood, it was probably Loras outside, stirred from his sleep, unwell, and lonely. The thought tugged at his heartstrings and sent the guilt washing back over him in waves. Hurriedly, he went to the door and heaved back the bolt, pulling the door open. 

It wasn't either of the two of the two people he had expected to see there.

 


	97. Chapter 97

“Margaery?”

Baffled, Renly stood in his open doorway, looking down at her, more than a little confused as to why she had appeared before him. She was still in her dress, but gone was the polished Margaery that had appeared at the feast. The hem of the ivory silk was stained with mud, and her hair a little windswept as it tumbled down her back. Her eyes were shining like stars though, and she rather reminded him of Loras after they’d been to bed together. It was a rather disconcerting thought.

“Can I come in?” she breathed, looking up at him with those big golden eyes that were so much like Loras’ that Renly couldn’t help feel a little muddled. The wine still lay like a hazy cloud over him, and if he squinted ever so slightly, it could have been Loras he saw before him. It occurred to him then that Margaery might be courting him and he gulped as he stood back to let her pass.

She walked past him without begging for a kiss though, and there was no seduction in her poise as she sat herself down. She could have chosen the chairs by the window, or the one behind the writing table, but it was Renly’s bed that she chose to sit down on, tucking her legs up underneath her as if it were common place that she might be in Renly’s bedchamber.

“I wanted a word with you,” she told him matter-of-factly. “A private word.”

“Well why not,” Renly laughed, more than a little taken aback by her manner. She might have been a highborn lady, but she was still a lady, and she was talking to him now as if she were one of his bannermen. He didn’t know whether to laugh or be a little afraid of her. She was evidently more like her grandmother than she usually let on. It appeared that he had to hear here out though, and so without further ado, he lit one of the candles at his bedside, burnt almost already down to the wick.

Tentatively, he sat down on his bed too, keeping rather a lot of space between them as was proper.

“Well, I’ve been speaking to Loras,” she started, sweeping her hair over one shoulder and beginning to plait it.

Renly just shut his eyes. He’d known that this conversation would one day come, where Margaery would sit him down and tell him that she’d had enough with how he carried on with her favourite brother behind closed doors. His blood froze in his veins and he held his breath, wondering how his pride could take it.

Margaery continued. “-and he was telling me that your brother is in need of a new wife.”

“Oh,” Renly felt the blood run hot again. That hadn’t been what he was expecting. “Which one?” he laughed weakly. He wasn’t sure who he was least fond of: Selyse or Cersei.

“ _Robert_ ,” she breathed, looking pointedly at him.

Renly sighed. He’d all but completely forgotten about that conversation he’d had with Loras. Whilst replacing Cersei was a pleasing idea, it was not a particularly possible one, not without the right girl, a girl who he was never going to find.

“Yes,” he agreed. “He does. But the Queen is beautiful, and more importantly, her father has gold pouring out of his ears. Quite simply, Margaery, the girl who could replace her doesn’t exist. She’s merely a figment of my wishful imagination.”

“But she does,” Margaery protested, her eyes lighting up. “I’ve found her.”

“Well, who is sh-“ The words died in his mouth as he realised quite what she was hinting at. “Definitely not, Margaery,” he told her firmly, despite the fact that part of him felt a surge of promise at her words. “If you think Loras is going to let you marry a fat lecherous old man like my brother, then you evidently don’t know your brother very well.”

“But I haven’t come to Loras,” she pointed out bluntly. “I’ve come to you.” 

That was true, Renly mused. He remained silent though, and her words echoed around his chambers until she shifted, gracefully closing the space between them and taking his large hands in her small ones. “And Loras isn’t the King’s brother,” she whispered earnestly.

“But he’s _your_ brother,” Renly told her. “And if you think I have any power to change Loras’ mind on this, then I’m sorry lady Margaery, but you’re sorely mistaken.”

“But I don’t need to change Loras’ mind,” she laughed, swishing her long plait behind her shoulder almost defiantly. “Only yours.”

“So you’ll go against his wishes?” Renly raised his eyebrow. That sounded very unlike what he would have expected of Margaery. He'd always recieved the impression that Margaery and Loras forever took each other's side, no matter the conflict.

She shrugged, a secret smile tugging at her lips. “We both know I won’t have to.”

“And why’s that?” Renly laughed.

“Because you’re going to talk him around for me,” she said sweetly. She turned her face up towards his and her expression was dangerously angelic, the candlelight catching elegant cheekbones. Like Loras, she was evidently very skilled in getting exactly what she wanted.

Renly laughed. “You’d do better to try yourself Margaery.” He wished that weren’t the case, but he knew best of all how well Margaery had Loras twisted around her little finger. He’d never heard Loras say a bad word about her in all the five years he’d known him.

She sighed and took his hands again. “You just don’t realise do you? If you tell Loras to jump, then he’ll sulk for a few days and then ask you how high.” She laughed, and Renly winced a little uncomfortably at the insinuation. “But forget about Loras for the moment. Just think, this is the perfect idea. My father can do everything Tywin Lannister does, and that Lannister woman is past it now. Her change will be on her soon.” She smiled widely. “Just give it some thought Renly,”

Renly nodded and sat back against the headboard of his bed to do as she said and give it some thought. In his mind’s eye, he traced the form of the girl sitting so close that she was practically on his lap, running his eyes over her delicate face, the womanly curve of her breast and the slim dip of her waist. She was beautiful, so beautiful that Robert could not possibly _not_ be tempted. She could give him children, sweet children that were quite unlike Joffrey, and she wouldn’t oppose Robert at every turn. The true strength of the idea lay though in how close she was to Loras, and how in turn, how close Loras was to him. Margaery at Robert’s left hand side would give him a power over his eldest brother that nobody else had.

“It’s a good idea,” he conceded, and he was met with a mischievous smile that really did belong on Loras.

She leant forward, her eyes gleaming. “So here’s how we’re going to do it,” she told him.

 

* * *

 

Renly was half under the bedclothes when he woke, and there was something warm and solid curled up against his side. Soft curls tickled his face and he opened his eyes to press a kiss into Loras’ hair. He was just rubbing the sleep out of his eyes though when he made out a shape at the end of his bed, a very familiar shape that had a lot of curly hair.

It took him a good few moments to realise how Loras could be both sitting cross-legged at the end of the bed and be tucked under his arm, and when the pieces fell into place, he sat up and shuffled away from the girl curled up under his bed sheets.

“Loras,” he mumbled. “What are you doing here?”

Loras cocked his head. “What am _I_ doing here? That’s your question?” His eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “Well excuse me if I have a different question Renly, _but what in the seven hells is my sister doing in your god damn bed_?”

“I can explain.” Renly said hurriedly, very glad now that he’d never thought to underdress last night. And whilst the sleeve of Margaery’s white gown was half-way down her arm now, she too was still in her clothes of last night.

“You’d better explain.” Loras said, and there was a warning in his voice that would have made Renly quiver in his boots had he been wearing any. He didn’t know what conclusions Loras was jumping to, and Loras would know best of all that it was very unlikely anything untoward had gone on between him and his precious sister, but as far as Loras was concerned, Renly didn’t imagine there were any acceptable excuses for having Margaery in his bed.

“Well,” he said, taking a deep breath and meeting Loras’ very wary eyes. “Your sister wanted to ask me about something last night, and so she came up here. We talked, and we fell asleep. That’s it.”

“And what did she want to talk to you about?” There was still a little suspicion in his gaze but it was mingled with curiosity now, and Renly felt he could relax.

“I’ll tell you later.” Renly laughed, stifling a yawn.

“Fine,” Loras said, rolling his eyes, but Renly was glad to see he looked very curious now even if a little miffed. Running a hand through his very tangled curls, curls he evidently hadn’t touched since sleeping on them last night, he moved up the bed and tucked one of the locks that had escaped Margaery’s plait behind her ear. With a gentleness that Renly had never seen in Loras before, he then scooped his sister up into his arms. “She needs to be back in her room,” he breathed as if suddenly conscious of waking her. “I’ll come back when I’ve put her to bed.”

He disappeared out the door with her at quite a slow pace but Renly had time to only doze a little before he was back, prodding Renly fully away as he slipped into bed beside him, stripped down to his small-clothes now.

“Will you tell me now?” he asked. It was only now, up close that Renly saw how unlike himself Loras looked this morning. His curls were more than a little frizzy, and his face was pale with dark shadows under his eyes. His exploits last night had evidently taken their toll.

Renly yawned. “It’s barely past dawn Loras. You look terrible. I feel terrible. Let’s get some sleep first and then we’ll talk.” He didn’t think he had the energy right now to deal with how much Loras would sulk at his and Margaery’s proposal.

“Fine,” Loras tucked himself under Renly’s chin as Margaery had been. “I’m flattered you think I look terrible.”

“You’re welcome,” Renly grinned, closing his eyes as Loras settled himself against his chest. “Comfortable?”

“Mm-hmm,” Loras murmured, burying his face in Renly’s neck. “But gods Renly, you smell like my sister. It's not at all becoming.” Yawning, he wrinkled his nose in distaste.

Renly laughed and wrapped an arm loosely around him, playing with the hem of Loras’ cotton shift. “No chance of a morning treat then?” He gave Loras’ head a playful downwards push.

“None at all.” Loras laughed softly.

“Well can I at least play with your hair then?”

“You know you don’t have to ask.”

Renly smiled lazily as he fluffed up Loras’ already rather frizzy curls. He found that if he ran his fingers through them backwards, they got even more fluffy. Yawning, he gave Loras a halo of frizz that Loras would loathe him for. He played with it for a good while, enjoying the calm before the storm, as Loras slowly fell asleep against his chest. Soon, his soft breathing against his neck was far too tempting, and Renly closed his eyes to join him in slumber, the right Tyrell pressed against his chest now.

 

* * *

 

“Well then?” Loras asked as soon as Renly woke. In the time that Renly had been asleep he had evidently bathed and looked a lot more presentable. He was still pale looking though, and Renly suspected he was feeling a little under the weather. “What is it you have to tell me?”

Too many things, Renly thought. But he supposed that what Margaery had planned was the pressing one seeing as that was what Loras was expecting to hear. It was an idea, he knew, that was going to horrify Loras, but he decided to present it cheerfully, as if he wasn’t expecting Loras to take offence to it in the slightest.

“Well Loras,” Renly said, rising from bed and going to the wardrobe to dress himself. “Do you remember when you suggested that we find Robert a new wife? A brilliant idea I might add.”

“It was a good idea wasn’t it?” Loras smiled, standing behind him and neatening his hair for him. “I’m glad you recognise that.”

“Oh I do.” Renly grinned as the two of them left his chambers and headed down to find something to eat. He knew that flattery would not get him all that far with Loras on this, but he didn’t see any harm in attempting. “But Margaery has turned your already brilliant idea into one that is _achievable_.”

“Really? How so?”

“She has found the girl capable of usurping Cersei.”

“She has?” Loras looked duly impressed, and he turned to smile at him in the corridor. “And who is she?”

“Well it’s herself,” Renly told him cheerfully, not daring to look at him.

“ _What?_ ” Loras hissed. He took Renly by the collar and pushed him roughly up against the wall. “You intend to take _my_ sister, my sweet sister who you know I love, and give her to Robert? Who’ll drink himself silly every day and then crawl into her bed and touch her with his flabby sweaty hands?”

Renly laughed nervously, the stone walls cold against his back and Loras’ hands worryingly close to his throat. “Well actually no, _Margaery_ intends to give herself to Robert who will then crawl into her bed and touch her with his flabby sweaty hands. But do you know what he’ll also do? He’ll make her his queen.”

“My sister doesn’t want to be queen, not his queen at least.” Loras snapped. “She wants to marry somebody who will love and cherish her. Someone handsome, and kind, and gentle, and someone who I approve of.”

“That’s not what Margaery tells me she wants.”

“Well she doesn’t know what she ought to want.” Loras hissed. “She’s still a child Renly.”

“Dangerous ground,” Renly laughed, quite glad Loras had taken this route. “She’s older than you were when-“

“Fine,” Loras snapped. “Point taken. But still, she’s never left the Reach. She’s never even _seen_ Robert. She probably thinks he’s like an older version of you. A bit frayed around the edges, and maybe a bit round, but in the way Garlan used to be round, not like the great lump he is.”

“But think,” Renly whispered, slipping both hands around Loras’ waist. “If we did this, she’d be a queen. _The_ queen. Your nephew would be a king.”

“Yes, but-“ Whatever Loras’ opposition was this time didn’t get heard, for they heard the door at the end of the corridor swing open and Loras sprung off him as quickly as he’d pounced.

It was Garlan and Leonette, and Renly was pleased to see that Garlan looked very worse for wear. He’d definitely come off worse last night.

“Well look who it is?” Garlan laughed, an affectionate arm around Leonette’s shoulders. “I believe I owe you some money lord Renly.”

“I believe you do,” Renly grinned. He tried to smile at Loras too but his attempts were met with an upturned nose and an icy expression.

There was nothing but warmth on Garlan’s face though, even though he’d been drunk under the table last night. “Well if you come with me, I have it for you.”

He led them outside into the rose garden, and Renly was pleased to see both Willas and Margaery already sat in the sunshine. Margaery still had her hair in a long plait down her back but she was dressed a lot more modestly than she had been last night, the neckline of her gown leaving a lot more to the imagination. She gave Renly the same secret smile that she had last night, stifling a laugh when she caught sight of Loras’ face. Her laugh did not go unnoticed though, and without even pausing to greet his eldest brother, Loras yanked her up out of her seat and tugged her away.

Renly watched them go, a little amused. They stopped at quite a distance, too far for him to hear what they were saying. It was blatant though, that they were arguing, and as awful as it was to admit, Renly relished the sight. It was more than a little bit enjoyable to know that Loras lost his temper with his sister too sometimes.

Willas and Garlan looked a little bemused to see Loras evidently raising his voice at Margaery but the two of them just shrugged and Garlan set down a very large and very heavy velvet bag on the wrought iron table with a loud satisfying thump.

“Here you go,” Garlan grinned, loosening the purse strings to reveal a mass of shiny gold coins inside. “One thousand gold dragons, counted out this morning by every servant I could find.”

Renly laughed. “Where did you get that many dragons so quickly?” He’d counted on not losing, but had that unfortunate event arisen, he should have had to ask Penrose to fetch it out of the vaults of Storm’s End.

“Oh, I just slipped them out of Loras’ bag of winnings,” Garlan grinned, winking. “He’s got twenty nine thousand golds in there still, he won’t even notice.”

“That’s not very gallant,” Renly laughed, more than a little amused. He’d never really given much thought either to quite how much the winnings usually were for taking first place in the joust, but he guessed Loras was probably a lot richer than he’d previously thought, and in his own right too, not just because Mace Tyrell had more money than he knew what to do with.

“No it’s not very gallant,” Garlan admitted, a wide smile stretching from ear to ear. “Perhaps you should have named me Garlan the Greedy, Willas, or Garlan the Gold thief.”

“Perhaps,” Willas agreed, smiling fondly.

It was then that Loras and Margaery came back, and whilst Loras didn’t seem to have any inkling that one thirtieth of his winnings from yesterday lay on the table before him, he did not look happy. Margaery on the other hand was smiling, even if she did look a little weary, no doubt worn down by her and Loras' fighting.

“Well you’re looking cheerful today,” Garlan teased Loras, pinching one of his cheeks. “What’s got your goat?”

“Nothing,” Loras muttered as he sat down heavily in a chair. “Maragery’s just being silly.”

“What have you done Sister?” Garlan laughed.

Margaery smiled and for a moment Renly thought her about to tell the truth. But then she spoke. “I was just telling Loras here that I’m going to name the peacock that father lets me keep after him,” she laughed, smirking wickedly at Loras as if she hadn't quite irritated him enough yet for one morning.

Loras evidently hadn’t known that for he scowled. “What?” he snapped.

“Yes, a peacock.” Margaery smiled, reaching over to pat Loras’ hand sweetly. “It was lord Renly’s idea.”

“What?” Loras repeated, spinning around to glare at Renly now.

Renly sighed, a little miffed at how quickly Loras had changed his target. “I’m really not in your good books today am I Loras?”

“No.” Evidently sulking, Loras crossed his arms moodily and thrust his chin in the air.

Garlan, on the other hand, grinned. “A male or female one?” he asked Margaery, ruffling Loras’ curls with a lazy hand and risking his wrath.

“A male one,” she laughed. “Because they’re just so very vain. And they strut around like this.” She got to her feet and much to their amusement, started walking around quite strangely, waving her shawl behind her as if she had a long tail like a peacock.

“Yes,” Garlan agreed. “That’s all very good and well, but I think a lady peacock would suit him even better. Name one of those after him.”

“It’s a peahen,” Willas corrected quietly, making Renly smile. He'd never given any thought to what a female peacock might be called, but it didn't surprise him that Willas Tyrell had. He seemed like the sort of man who always had his nose in one book or another, and no doubt, when the time came, he would make a very educated and cultured lord of Highgarden.

Loras ignored him though and narrowed his eyes at Garlan. “And why should I be a lady peacock Garlan?” There was quiet accusation in his voice.

“Peahen.” Willas repeated patiently.

Garlan laughed. “Have you seen those peacocks Loras? You’re not half comely enough to be one of those. You suit those dull drab birds instead. With the brown feathers and the very unimpressive plumage. A _lady_ peacock.”

“Peahen.”

“But I don’t want to be a lady peacock,” Loras protested.

“ _Peahen_.”

Sighing, both Loras and Garlan turned to Willas in unison. “Did you say something brother?” Loras asked sweetly.

“Yes,” Willas said wearily. “A lady peacock is called a peahen.”

“I don't care what it's called. I don’t _want_ to be a lady peacock,” Loras repeated, paying no heed to what his brother had just told him.

“I don’t know why I bother,” Willas sighed, turning to Renly and looking exasperated. Renly just smiled at him. He could sympathise with what it was like to have brothers that you didn’t see eye to eye with. Personally, though, he thought Willas had it lucky with Garlan and Loras. They both quite clearly enjoyed winding each other and Willas up, but they had their hearts in the right place.

Garlan was clearly enjoying winding Loras up now though, and grinning, he turned to Margaery. “I know,” he chuckled. “You could call it Lossie.”

Loras scrunched up his face at that remark and Margaery made a very undignified noise as she burst into laughter. Even Willas smiled, and Renly turned to him, as confused.

“Margaery couldn’t pronounce Loras as a small child,” Willas explained with a small smile. “That was the solution she found. I doubt either of them actually remember it, but Garlan here-”

“-shall never ever let Loras forget it,” Garlan finished. “He was such a sweet little boy wasn’t he Willas, carting his little sister everywhere with him and making sure her bonnet was tied on for her?”

“Lord Renly does not need to know that.” Loras snapped. There was a faint blush creeping up his neck and Renly did his best to stifle his laughter to save his embarrassment. As it was though, he couldn’t help but be amused by the portrait Garlan painted for him. He could just imagine Loras being a little awed by his newborn sister.

Garlan tugged on Loras’ hair as his scowl deepened. “Aww, is little Lossie upset?”

Rising from his chair, Loras made a very indignant noise before he turned on his heel and stalked angrily off.

 

* * *

 

Renly found him later, and the two of them made amends as they always did- with Loras lying underneath Renly with his legs wrapped tightly around his waist as they echoed their names back to each other. It had actually worked in Renly’s favour that Garlan had chosen to wind Loras up that morning, for now Loras had somebody else to direct his displeasure at, and he was actually quite gentle with Renly as they rocked together.

“You’re probably right, Renly,” Loras conceded as he lay in Renly’s arms afterwards. “The idea with Margaery is not such a terrible one. And Robert’s not a cruel man is he?”

“No,” Renly breathed. “He’s not cruel.” For all that he didn’t get along with Robert and Stannis, he wouldn’t describe either of them as cruel. He’d never seen Robert or Stannis take a hand to a woman.

“And she would be the queen,” Loras admitted, looping his arms around Renly’s neck and laying his head against his chest even though Renly’s skin was still a little damp with sweat.

“She would be,” Renly repeated, holding him close. He was glad to have Loras’ seal of approval, regardless of whether it was given a little reluctantly. Now all that remained was to get Robert interested, to tell him all about the beautiful girl from Highgarden and whet his appetite a little before he met her. “And think, Loras,” he added. “-of what a beautiful queen she should make. And how the smallfolk should adore her.”

Loras nodded softly, and now that he was gentled, pliant against Renly’s chest, Renly thought it best to broach the next tricky thing he’d planned to talk to Loras about. Whilst part of him had considered not telling Loras at all about what Prince Oberyn had said last night, another part, a stronger part, was too curious about it all to not have Loras at least hear the idea out.

He called Loras’ name gently, pressing a kiss to his forehead when he glanced up. “Loras,” he repeated. “There’s something else that I wanted to talk to you about as well actually.”

“Something else?” Loras looked a little weary and he lay his cheek back against Renly’s chest to listen to what he had to say.

“Am I allowed to make you promise not to get angry?”

“No,” Loras said bluntly.

“Why not?” Renly laughed, feeling a little of his hopefulness trickle away.

“Because if I get angry, it shall be for a reason.”

Renly sighed and picked up one of Loras’ curls to play with, stretching it out to its full length before letting it spring satisfyingly back into shape. “All right then,” he breathed, wondering quite how nervous he ought to be. “Yesterday, I was approached by someone, a man-”

“-which one of the Dornish company was it?” Loras asked scathingly, raising his head off Renly’s chest.

“Oberyn,” Renly admitted.

“And what does he want?”

Biting back a sigh, Renly ran a hand through Loras’ hair and guided his head back down until it was against his chest once more “Well,” he breathed. “He had an invitation for us Loras.”

“I don’t want to go to anything of his.” Loras said immediately, his breath hot against Renly’s skin as he punctuated each word. “Especially not if we’d have to go to Sunspear. It’s horrible there, with snakes, and scorpions, and sand that never ends.”

“It wasn’t that sort of invitation,” Renly said slowly, tightening his hold around Loras and tracing calming circles across Loras’ lower back.

“Then what sort of invitation was it?” Loras pressed.

Renly took a very deep breath, one that he knew Loras would pick up on. “It was an invitation to join him and that boy of his in bed Loras.” He hadn’t given the invitation much thought all day but now that the words were out of his mouth, he found the pleasurable images Oberyn had conjured in his mind yesterday beginning to swim once more before his eyes, tempting and just out of his reach.

Loras, though, gave a hiss of displeasure. “I hope you told him to go fuck himself.” He wriggled half out of Renly’s grasp to glare at him.

“I didn’t tell him anything,” Renly said softly. He was unsurprised by Loras’ reaction, but surprised by quite how strong his own disappointment was. He’d thought this a rather exciting possibility for he and Loras to explore something new together. “But does the idea not appeal to you even a little bit?” he asked.

“What?” Still in his arms, Loras cocked his head, a little baffled.

“Not even a tiny little bit?” Renly pressed. “I mean, do you not think it a shame that we’ll go our whole lives and only have ever been with one man.”

“By one man, you mean each other?” Loras clarified stiffly. “No Renly, I don’t think that’s a shame at all. I always thought that rather poetic.” He looked up at Renly rather earnestly, and pressed himself a little closer.

“It is,” Renly agreed, the sentiment not lost on him. “But you’re not even a little curious?”

“No,” Loras said bluntly, and this had evidently gone too far for him, for a frown had crept onto his face. “Are you?”

“Well, a little maybe,” Renly admitted. “I mean, it’s not like you wouldn’t be there with me. And a new man Loras? Don’t you think it would be exciting? Something new for the two of us to try together?" He made to take Loras’ hands but Loras pulled them angrily away.

“ _How dare you?_ ” Loras hissed. “I’m lying here naked in your arms, your seed still inside me, and you’re telling me that you want to make love to another man?”

“Oh Loras,”

“Don’t you _oh Loras_ me,” Loras snapped back, slapping away Renly’s attempts to hold his hands once more. “Is that what you’re telling me?”

Renly bit back a sigh. “You’re twisting my words Loras,” he said quietly. “You’d be there. It’s not like I’d be skulking around behind your back and carrying on with another man in secret.”

“Just answer the question,” Loras retorted. “Do you, or do you not, want to make love to another man Renly?”

“I suppose that yes, the idea does appeal to me a very little bit.” Renly admitted unhappily, feeling as if he were backed into a corner even though he was still laid on his side in bed. “Does that upset you?”

 _"Does that upset me?_ ” Loras stood up angrily and started putting his clothes on.

Sighing, Renly stood up too and tried to put his arms around him. “Well does it?”

His attempts was met with a hard slap around his cheek. “No it doesn’t Renly,” he spat. “It makes me furious.”

He slammed the door on him and Renly was left rubbing a very sore red mark on his left cheek.


	98. Chapter 98

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quite aware I can't please everyone here, so apologies in advance!!

Renly’s cheek stung, but not half as much as the realisation that Loras had felt wounded enough to strike him did. He supposed he deserved it; he’d always known quite how fragile Loras’ pride was, how prone he was to outbursts of jealousy; and sighing, he examined the hot red mark in the looking glass, tracing the shape of it with his fingers.

He supposed he’d grown complacent in handling Loras, lulled into a false sense of security by just how sensible Loras had been upon the arrival of the Dornish party, by his unanticipated suggestion to play a rather cruel game of his sister’s. He supposed though that there was a chasm between Loras feeling comfortable jesting with him about men who were more likely to voluntarily take the black than invite a man into their beds and what was essentially a very real possibility that Oberyn had suggested.

Every bone in his body wanted to run after Loras and pull him back, but he forced himself to sit in his chambers. Loras, he knew, needed time to calm down, for his rage to cool. And so even though Renly felt a little like one of those skittish horses before a joust, thrashing against the bit and desperate to get it over with, he restrained himself. There would be no point in seeking Loras out now only to have him slap him across the face again.

He’d only managed a quarter of an hour though before there was a knock on his door. It was almost unbelievable that Loras’ rage would have dissipated enough to voluntarily come back and yet he let himself be hopeful as he scrambled to open the door.

That hope sunk like a sinking ship though when Renly saw the small boy standing outside his chambers. It was one of Highgarden’s many pages and Renly tried to not visibly take out his disappointment on him; it wasn’t his fault after all that he was a lowly page and not Mace Tyrell’s favourite son.

“Yes?” he asked, trying not to be too curt even though he wanted to shut the door in his face.

“Lord Renly,” he greeted, bobbing into a short bow as his eyes flicked up to the red mark across Renly’s cheek. “I’ve been told to fetch you.”

Renly frowned, waiting for the boy to elaborate. When he didn’t, he merely big back a large sigh and stepped out to follow the boy to wherever it was he was taking him. It was a part of Highgarden that Renly had never been into that the boy led him, and the further they went, the more confused Renly became.

Eventually though, the boy came to a stop and drew up outside a door. He gave three sharp raps on it before opening it very slightly and hurrying back down the corridor.

Frowning, Renly pushed the door open a little further, stepping inside. He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting but this surely hadn’t been it.

He’d given Oberyn no answer and yet the man himself was sat in front of him as coolly as anything, clad in a blood orange tunic with gold embroidery, a slight smile on his face and an intensity in his inky black eyes that almost frightened Renly. Next to him sat Daemon Sand, lounged back against the back of the chaise, and a glint in his eyes to match Oberyn’s.

Renly didn’t know what to say to them and he fixed Oberyn with a questioning look. “Why am I here?” he asked.

Oberyn looked amused, and laughter flickered in his eyes as he gestured around the room with an elegant hand. “Ser Loras here tells me you wish to join us.”

Renly hadn’t seen Loras and he whipped around. He was sat by the window as far as he could be from the two Dornish men in the centre of the room. He had his arms folded across his chest and he was glaring at Renly with an expression of almost pure loathing. It was an expression he’d seen on Loras’ face many times but one that Renly had never seen directed at him. It was more than a little alarming and never before had Renly felt more helpless.

“Um Loras,” he breathed softly as if dropping his voice would stop the closer Dornish men hearing. “A word please outside.”

“I’m sorry lord Renly,” Loras spat at him mockingly, nothing in his tone that was sorry at all. “But could you repeat yourself. I didn’t hear a word.”

Renly took a deep breath, feeling both of his cheeks burn now. “Ser Loras, a word please?”

Loras’ mouth twisted down into a scowl. “I’m sure you can say whatever you want here Renly. We’re all friends here aren’t we?”

Nothing could be further from the truth but Renly sighed and shut his mouth, an uneasy silence descending over the room that Loras quite clearly relished.

“Wine lord Renly?” Daemon suggested silkily, sidling up to him with a tray and breaking the silence. Renly was almost grateful, and then he made the mistake of meeting the boy’s eyes. There was a insolence there that made Renly quite sure that Daemon was reliving their previous encounter, recalling how inept Renly had been, how clumsy, how he’d baulked at Daemon’s request to fuck him and all but pushed him from his chambers. And looking at him now, there was a slyness in his handsome face that told Renly he’d known that that had been Renly’s first encounter, that he hadn’t had an idea in hell as to what he was doing. The knowledge seemed to empower him and Renly found himself shrinking back from his gaze.

Trying to compose himself, Renly helped himself to a goblet. He had to admire it as he took a sip. Golden, and emblazoned with Martell suns, it was a pleasure to drink from, satisfyingly heavy in his hand as he lifted it to his lips. He was surprised to taste though that the wine was clearly Dornish, which was rather rude when they were sat within Highgarden’s halls for it was simply not done to bring one’s own wine except as a gift. Looking at Oberyn’s cunning face, Renly wondered if the gesture were meant as an insult to Loras. Either way, he knew that Loras would surely take it as one. He was a little glad thus to see Loras turn his nose up at the offer of refreshment at all, turning his face away from the goblets as if the Martell suns disgusted him. Knowing Loras, they probably did.

Daemon Sand just laughed though, low and menacing as he glanced back at Oberyn.

“No wine little rose?” Oberyn breathed softly, standing and crossing the room in three long strides that spoke of sensuality, of a lustiness that was brimming just below the surface. Slowly, he trailed a long slender finger across Loras’ jaw, bending to look him in the eye and licking his lips as if he liked what he saw.

Loras did not flinch, nor did he shy away from the prince’s gaze. He merely regarded him with disdain, haughtiness evident even in the way he held himself. He was quite clearly uncomfortable though, and Renly longed to go to him and take him away from all this.

Tentatively, he made to stand up. He was too slow though, and before he’d even properly got to his feet, Oberyn had beckoned Loras forward with a long finger and whispered something in his ear. Whatever he’d said evidently displeased Loras but even so, he stood as he was bid, crossing the room to Renly himself and pushing him roughly back down into his chair.

Bending, he loosened Renly’s collar for him with practised fingers. “Comfortable Renly?” he hissed.

Renly grasped his wrist and tugged him gently a little closer. “I only ever meant to discuss the idea Loras,” he whispered earnestly, wishing now that he’d never found the idea stirring in the first place, wishing that he still didn’t find the idea stirring now.

Loras, however, simply laughed at him, the sound low and soft, as deadly as one of the Red Viper’s poisons. “Well if this isn’t what you want,” he breathed. “- why don’t you say it out loud Renly?” His eyes narrowed, he pressed a hot wet kiss just below Renly’s ear before righting himself sharply.

His eyes still on Renly, he yanked Daemon Sand towards him. Renly then watched in a tense silence as the two of them sized each other up, the animosity almost tangible in the air. It was Daemon who broke first and in a movement as fluid as silk, he closed the gap between them, his hands grabbing at Loras’ tunic to pull him closer.

The two of them kissed as if they were duelling, and even in there more heated moments, Renly didn’t think he’d ever kissed Loras like that. The pair of them grappled at each other’s clothes, the tears in the fabric audible as they bit and clawed at each other, like two lions fighting for dominance.

Renly watched them silently, as did Oberyn. The sight was stirring; it made desire knot in Renly’s stomach, and yet he couldn’t escape from Loras’ furious gaze. Loras hadn’t closed his eyes as Daemon kissed him, and nor had he torn his eyes from Renly’s face. Never before had Renly seen a more vindictive expression on anyone’s face and he found he had to glance away in shame.

It was worse when though when Loras closed his eyes, pushing his hips roughly up against Daemon’s as he made an appreciative noise in the back of his throat. It was fake, Renly knew, completely and utterly fake, for he knew best of all how to sort the noises Loras made when he was truly overcome with desire from those ones that were just for show, and this one was clearly for show, but even so it made a lump form in Renly’s throat, jealousy rearing its ugly head as he felt his cock twitch in his breeches like a flag being hoisted slowly to mast.

Taking a deep breath, he ignored the way Oberyn’s clever eyes had darted to the bulge in his breeches and he glanced back at over at Loras, his tongue in Daemon’s mouth and one hand sliding beneath the Dornish boy’s tunic to claw his nipples into stiff peaks.

“Come Loras,” he breathed. “Come kiss me awhile will you?”

At first he thought Loras hadn’t heard, but with one last sharp bite to Daemon’s bottom lip, he raised his head to glance back over at him. Pushing the bastard off him, he stole to Renly’s side, standing behind him and slipping both hands down the front of Renly’s shirt, loosening the buttons to reveal his chest. “No thank you Renly,” he whispered in his ear. “I get to kiss you all the time. Why should I want to kiss you now? There’s somebody new now, and isn’t it exciting?”

With a hard pinch to Renly’s shoulder, he returned to Daemon and this time, he seemed intent on driving Renly to madness. He let Daemon back him up against the wall, straddling him as Daemon pressed bruising kisses along his collarbone, his weight pinning Loras against the white stone walls whilst Loras wrapped his long elegant legs around Daemon’s waist.

Oberyn laughed softly as he watched, and the desire clear on his lusty face now, he came to sit beside Renly, taking a long drink from his goblet and giving Renly a twisted smile with wine-stained lips.

“You know lord Renly,” he hissed, his forked tongue licking the last drops of wine from his viper lips. “I extended the invitation to that little rose of yours expecting that I’d get a green boy, a kitten of a thing that I’d need to get Ellaria to coax out of his breeches and pet for me. But it seems I invited a tiger into my bedchamber doesn’t it lord Renly?”

Renly just made a choked sound and he gulped as Oberyn reached out with those long fingers of his and touched the red mark on his cheek.

“Vicious is he?” he asked slyly, sliding a hand up the inside of Renly’s leg. With a pointed finger, he traced along Renly’s length through his breeches, his touch hot and deliberate.

Daemon meanwhile seemed to be struggling. He was a strong man, powerfully built, but he, like Renly often did, seemed to be falling victim to under-estimating quite how heavy the boy astride him was. Panting, he let Loras drop to his feet, almost being knocked over as Loras gave him a rough push in the direction of the bed. His attention was on Renly now, and Renly saw his eyes linger on Oberyn’s hand, still stroking through Renly’s breeches, and it was with a renewed fury in his steps that Loras stalked after Daemon.

Like a viper who’d been waiting in the grass to spring, Oberyn rose sharply to his feet to join them. Renly followed his lead. Whilst a small voice whispered that he ought to stay where he was, to avoid further stoking Loras’ wrath, he couldn’t help himself; his cock was wanting, neglected in his breeches, and reluctantly, he trailed after Oberyn and his clever fingers.

Daemon and Loras had resumed their struggle, and this time it was Loras who came off worse, ending up underneath Daemon, the boy’s lips at his throat whilst he forced Loras down with his hands. He was being rough with him, unduly so, and whilst Renly knew that inside, Loras was probably insulted beyond belief, he gave no sign of that insult. He arched his back deliciously off the bed like a bow string pulled taut and gazed up at the Dornish boy as he might gaze up at Renly.

It was painful to watch and Renly was glad when Daemon rolled off Loras to unlace his breeches, Oberyn’s hand reaching inside to no doubt wrap itself around his former squire’s cock with a practised flourish. Quickly, Renly took the opening left to him and he pulled Loras to him, seating him in between his legs as he reached round to palm Loras’ own cock through his breeches.

He didn’t know whether he was surprised or not to find that Loras was barely hard, and unsure whether Loras would want him to continue, he simply wrapped his arms tightly around his chest, disappointed to find that Loras was stiff in his arms, unwilling to settle comfortably back against his chest as he usually would. It was miserable and despite his lust Renly almost wanted to cry as he held someone who didn’t want to be held.

“Loras-“ he started softly, scrunching his eyes shut when he was cut off by Loras’ sharp intake of breath as Oberyn drew Daemon’s cock out of his breeches. It was only then that Loras leant back against him, and he tilted his head back to get his lips as close to Renly’s ear as he could.

“Look Renly,” he breathed, prying Renly’s hands off him with rough fingers. “His is bigger than mine. Do you prefer it?”

Renly sighed deeply, wishing he knew what to say to that. Daemon’s cock was bigger than Loras’, there was no denying that, but that didn’t mean he wanted it any more. Still, he couldn’t find any words. Oberyn had pulled out a few of the laces on his tunic, and the orange fabric had parted to reveal his chest, the skin dark, luxurious and smooth despite his age. On the basest of levels, Renly wanted him, as he wanted the blue eyed bastard of Godsgrace also, but he wanted Loras more.

Loras snorted at his silence. “What?” he whispered in his ear. “I thought this was what you wanted?” He pushed back hard against Renly’s chest, no doubt feeling Renly’s erection against his back. “Isn’t he handsome Renly? The boy you took to bed before you even noticed me?” He bit down on Renly’s neck very softly, almost sweetly as he continued, his voice venomous. “Don’t you want him Renly? I promise I won’t mind. It’s not as if I have any dignity is it?”

Renly closed his eyes and tightened his hands around Loras’ waist. He was well and truly backed into a corner now, and Loras’ words had fanned the seed of guilt into the pit of his stomach into a roaring flame. It was a stirring idea, what Daemon and Oberyn were offering him on a plate, a tempting, exotic one, but one that he couldn’t entertain any further whilst Loras was so unhappy with it.

Pushing his hair off his face and wishing there were just a little bit of cool air in the room to help him think, he glanced up at the Dornish prince and swallowed his pride. “I’ve changed my mind,” he blurted out. “I think we’ll take our leave now.”

A small smile tugged at Oberyn’s lips, twisting into a smirk as he eyed the red sore mark across Renly’s cheek. “A shame,” he hissed. “-but as you wish.”

Renly didn’t need telling twice, and he buttoned up his doublet hurriedly. “Come Loras,” he whispered.

“Come?” Loras turned his head to scowl at him and Renly despaired to see that he wasn’t placated even by the prospect of escaping Oberyn’s chambers. “I’m not your pet Renly,” he spat.

“Just come will you?” Renly pleaded.

Loras almost snarled at him but obediently he climbed off the bed and stalked out of the room in front of him.

He was almost down the stairs by the time Renly caught up with him. “Wait Loras,” Renly called. “Wait.”

Loras didn’t even turn his head.

 

* * *

 

Renly waited until the castle had gone to bed before seeking Loras out. He knocked on his door several times before trying to push it open. He sighed to find it locked.

“Loras,” he called softly. “Please come out.”

He received only silence in return, but regardless, Renly stood outside for a good few hours, whispering apologies through the wood in the hope that Loras was deigning to listen, perhaps sat on the other side of the door as Renly spoke to him.

It was only when the sun’s light crept over the horizon and flooded the corridor with light that Renly headed to bed. He felt utterly dismal- worn down, embarrassed and weighed down with regrets- but he had hope that the light of day would bring Loras clarity, make his ears less deaf to his pleas.

It was not so. Much to his family’s confusion, Loras did not venture out all day and so that night again, Renly returned to the door of Loras’ chambers to beg and plead once more, as he then did the next night and the night after that.

On the fifth night, the night before he was supposed to leave for King’s Landing, Renly no longer knew what to say. All his pleas had gone unanswered and despite his all-night vigil, Loras had given him not a single sign that he was listening, that he was at all moved by Renly’s apologies.

“Please Loras,” he called once more as dawn broke once more. “We’re leaving tomorrow. You can’t ignore me all the way to King’s Landing can you?”

He’d hit his mark and Renly let out a sigh of pure relief as he heard movement inside, his exhaustion forgotten as the realisation that Loras had been listening washed over him. Indeed, slowly, the door creaked open and Loras stepped out.

He looked as exhausted as Renly felt, his curls in desperate need of a wash and large dark circles under his eyes. “No,” he admitted stiffly. “It would be impossible to ignore you all the way to King’s Landing.”

Renly reached for his hands, desperate to hold him even if Loras looked more dishevelled than he’d ever looked before. “Then let us make amends?” he breathed, chancing a smile at him.

Loras turned his face away, putting his nose up in the air as if he smelt something bad. “Tempting but no.” he snapped.

“No?” Renly reached out to take his hands once more. “But you just said-”

Loras didn’t even deign to look at him as he cut him off. “I know what I just said. It would be impossible to ignore you. But I shan’t be coming with you to King’s Landing.”

“What?” Renly breathed. “But you have to Loras. It’s our home now.”

“Do I?” Loras snarled. “I was always under the impression that Highgarden was my home.” Narrowing his eyes, he glared at Renly, as if daring him to suggest otherwise.

Renly was no stranger to despair; he’d felt it every day when Tyrell soldiers and Redwyne ships had surrounded Storm’s End, but he’d forgotten how terrible true despair really was. “Oh please Loras,” he begged, dropping to his knees and wrapping his arms around Loras’ legs.

“Don’t worry” Loras said sweetly, bending to give him a mocking smile. “The road to King’s Landing might be lonely but there’s plenty of other men of varied tastes in the capital. Find somebody else Renly. Won’t that be exciting for you?”

He didn’t give him time to respond and before Renly could even pick himself up off the floor, he’d slammed the door in his face. And he was right- the road to King’s Landing was indeed lonely.


	99. Chapter 99

They made slow progress up the rose road. Renly didn’t think he’d ever glanced more often behind him, and he knew that his agitation spread to the men; it was palpable in the air, and gone was the merry laughter, the ribald tales, the songs that would usually fill the silences as they rode.

Instead, they rode in silence, the dull rhythm of the horses’ hooves like thunder beneath them. Renly didn’t know if the men realised the true reason for his sour mood, but he imagined that many of them were not far off. Even after everyone had been ready, they’d lingered several hours in Highgarden’s courtyard, Renly anxiously waiting for someone who had never appeared. It had been almost dark by the time Renly had finally given up hope, and he’d made his way miserably to the front of the column, leading them through Highgarden’s gates in silence. For the men that knew him best, Renly thought it must have been easy to put two and two together, to look around the group and realise who was missing.

None spoke of it, though, and Renly was grateful. He had enough trouble keeping his composure together as it was. With every inn that they left, it was all he could do to not fall to his knees and weep; Loras was evidently not behind them; not desperately trying to catch him up as he had desperately hoped he was.

And as the distance between them grew and grew with each passing day, Renly found he felt more and more helpless. He consoled himself by writing letters, long reams of parchment in which he begged for forgiveness. He sent them whenever he could, and often, as he lay in bed alone at night, he passed the empty hours imagining Loras reading them, picturing how a certain phrase or apology might move him and soften his heart a little. In all likelihood, Loras probably wasn’t even deigning to read them. Renly wouldn’t even be surprised if he’d burnt every single one of them. But that was an impossible truth to swallow and so Renly shut that thought away, locking it away with other memories that he was desperate to forget too, faint memories that summoned up a deep ache in his stomach and a hazy vision of green and gold banners.

Penrose was the only one who saw Renly thought saw how truly miserable he was, but it wasn’t until they reached Bitterbridge, where Renly would continue north whilst Penrose would turn west, that he brought anything up, paying a visit to Renly’s rooms in the inn after they’d finished their supper.

Renly had let him in without question but now the two of them sat at the dusty table in the inn in silence, Renly staring miserably down at his hands to avoid looking at him. 

“Renly,” Penrose started evenly. “Why isn’t Loras here?”

Renly wasn’t surprised that his castellan didn’t feel the need to beat about the bush, but part of him wished he had. “Because he doesn’t want to be,” Renly answered stiffly. He wished now that Penrose had left him alone with his misery, regardless of how kind his intentions were.

“And why’s that?”

Renly sighed deeply as he contemplated the most vague way to answer without lying. “Because we argued Penrose," he admitted quietly. "Over a situation that was of my creation but which Loras made worse. And it was truly a terrible argument Penrose, not the sort of thing that will _blow over_ as Maester Cressen used to say."

Penrose smiled wryly. “Whatever the argument was, he shall come around,” he soothed, the tone of voice unusual for Penrose. “You know he shall.” 

“But he won’t,” Renly choked out, wishing Penrose was right but knowing it was quite possible he wasn't. He was long past the age now where he could mindlessly trust in what those who seemed both older and wiser told him. “Loras doesn’t forgive. You know that.”

Penrose sighed and lay his hands on the dusty table. “Yes, I best of all know how well Loras Tyrell can keep a grudge. But I dare say Renly, that for you, Loras will likely make an exception.”

“But it was all my fault,” Renly protested. “What if he can’t forgive? What if he won't?”

“I very much doubt that it was entirely your fault Renly,” Penrose laughed, a gentle smile at his his lips that wasn't mocking for once. “It takes two to argue. But you know he shall forgive. And you know too that he shall find it easier to forgive you your wrong-doing than admit any of his own.”

“True,” Renly conceded, even though the words brought him no comfort. “But what if he does neither. I shan’t be able to bear it. I never knew a mother’s love, Penrose, or a father’s. I don’t even really love my brothers. But Loras? Loras is different. He's someone who always has to be there, otherwise I shall go mad."

“I know he is,” Penrose smiled. “And I dare say that no matter what that silly boy of yours claims currently, Loras knows that too.”

“I suppose he does,” Renly admitted. "But I shan't hold my breath."

Penrose smiled. “Don’t fret Renly. Even Loras’ moods pass with time.”

 

* * *

 

Penrose's words did little to raise his spirits, and upon reaching the stench of King's Landing, part of him was tempted to ride straight back south and beg Loras once more to come back with him. The thought of facing the capital without him was almost too much to bear. And as they rode through the crowded streets back to the Red Keep, weaving their way through farmers and merchant and whores alike, Renly realised just quite how lonely it was possible to feel even when one was surrounded by people.

“I thought our lord would perk up a little when we were home,” Renly heard Alyn whisper to Ser Guyard behind him. “But he’s still as miserable as the stranger. I can’t understand it.”

“He’s pining.” Ser Guyard breathed back, and Renly forced himself not to turn his head. He would not have them realise that he could hear every word they were exchanging. He'd have swallowed his pride whole for Loras, got on his knees and begged, but he would not allow his men to see him defeated and humiliated. Gritting his teeth, he stared straight ahead, doing his best to close his ears.

“Pining?” Alyn queried. "Who for?"

“Who do you think, you fool?” Ser Guyard laughed exasperatedly. “Who is not here who our Lord Renly might wish was?”

“Oh,” Alyn whispered. “And why’s he not here?”

“No idea.” The clasps on Ser Guyard’s cloak jingled as he evidently shrugged. “Grandison reckons they’ve had a tiff.”

“You think?” Alyn’s voice was quiet. “But they’ll make up shan’t they? We can't have our lord stay as miserable as this for much longer.”

“I imagine so," Ser Guyard laughed under his breath. "You weren’t at Storm’s End when Tyrell first came, but I was.” He laughed. “He was a right runt back then, half my size even though I was still a squire too. Inseparable from the week he arrived, lord Renly and he were. You hardly used to see one without the other. Joined at the hip, everyone used to say." He snorted loudly. "I dare say Tyrell will come running back like a love-sick maiden within a while.”

Renly refused to let himself listen, lest part of him insisted on drawing false hope from Ser Guyard's words.

 

* * *

 

 

King’s Landing was even more dismal than usual, and whilst Renly knew that it was only Loras’ absence that made it seem so, he couldn’t help but take his mood out on everyone around him. Twice that week, he’d sent Alyn scurrying from the room with some biting remark. He knew that it was entirely his fault alone that Loras wasn’t there beside him, but a small, very selfish part of him wanted the world and everyone in it to suffer with him. 

His mood lasted a whole week, until one bright summer's morning, Alyn brought him his letters as usual and his heart soared to see that he had one letter that was sealed with a wax rose. He ripped it open in haste, only to find that his soaring heart sunk like a shot-down raven when he saw that it wasn’t from Loras at all. Instead, it was handwriting he had seen before, but never in a letter addressed to him.

 _Lord Renly_ , she wrote.

_I  hope this letter finds you well but I shall not beat about the bush as to my reason for writing. I write to you in all honesty because I am worry for my brother, and I know that you and he have always been good friends. Since your departure, we’ve hardly seen him. He has shut himself up in his chambers and seems reluctant even to partake in amusements that I know him to be well fond of. I do not claim to know what is troubling him, but if you could, would you write to him for me? I find it odd that he won’t unburden himself to me, but I imagine that he shall deign to speak to you. He has always held you in such high esteem and I imagine he always will._

_Fondly,_  
 _Margaery_

Renly just sighed as he read on. Evidently, Margaery had no idea that he’d already written to Loras more times than he could count, and whilst part of him was a little glad that Loras had not humiliated him by discussing such intimate details with his sister, that worried him more than anything yet had. He'd never known Loras to withdraw so far into himself that he refused his sister's company, and it unsettled him greatly. He did as he was bid though, and although he had already penned one desperate letter that morning, he picked up his quill to write another, trying to keep his hands from shaking.

 _My dearest Loras_ , he started.

_This morning I received a rather worrying raven from your sister. For once I shan’t beg you to come to King’s Landing, for it is evident that you do not want to see me, but I will beg that you stop this nonsense Margaery tells me you’re carrying on with. Shutting yourself up in your chambers is a help to nobody, least of all yourself, and I loathe to think of you all alone even when surrounded by your family._

_As always, I long for a few words from you. It is unsettling to think that in all our five years together, this is the longest I have ever gone without word from you. Quite honestly Loras, it frightens me. You are my lover, my friend, and my closest confidant, and whilst I can see many futures for myself, for a long time now, you have always been part of each and every single one._

_Yours as always,_  
 _Renly_

Renly sent his letter that evening, along with another too for Margaery, assuring her that he would do his best. He did not mention how futile his best most likely was and for not the first time in the past fortnight, he put himself to bed with tears wet on his face.

 

* * *

 

The next few days dawned like the rest, and Renly walked through the days with a certain numbness, conversing when necessary and eating when Alyn pushed a plate in front of him. Slowly, one day blurred into the next, until one morning, Alyn startled him awake.

“My lord,” he said hurriedly. “I’ve an urgent message for you.”

Renly just groaned and slung a pillow over his head. Unless it was a message from Loras, something he highly doubted, he had no desire to hear it.

“My lord?” Alyn shook his shoulder a little feebly. He evidently thought this crossing a line and with some bitterness, Renly wondered what the poor boy would say if he told him that his predecessor had forcefully pulled him out of bed on most days, and even resorted to waking him up armed with a bucket of water on certain occasions.

Miserably, Renly sat up, hating the boy a little purely because he wasn't Loras. “What is it Alyn?” he asked.

“Your brother has sent for you,” Alyn told him. “You’re to go hunting.”

“I am?” Renly rubbed a hand over his jaw, wondering if he needed a shave and not particularly caring. “When?”

“Now my lord. The party is assembling as we speak.

Renly groaned and got to his feet. He supposed he was in no position to deny Robert his whims. He supposed that it would do him good, that if anything, it might offer him some distraction from his misery.

 

* * *

 

 

How wrong he was. Renly had expected the hunt to be on horseback, but his brother, seemingly, had had other ideas. _They were to hunt their game like men_ , Robert had grunted, gripping a spear in his big hand and spraying everyone within a few feet with spit. _With nothing but bow and spear._ He'd then brandished his weapon in their faces as if they were children who needed things explained to them, everyone mounting quickly in case he chose to poke the deadly stick at them again.

Deep into the Kingswood they had gone, a pack of servants following their trail a league behind with pack horses that carried their tents and their wine. Renly had known even then that he probably wasn’t going to find this particular hunt of any amusement. It was the ride he relished, the exhilarating chase. For his brother, he knew that the chase was of little consequence. The part that got Robert’s blood up was when he could smell the fear radiating off his prey, and when he could feel the life drain out of it as his spear pierced the beast’s flesh.

What he hadn’t known was how the gods were not to be on their side. The heavens opened on the third day and even though they were deep amongst the trees, they couldn’t escape the downpour. Renly didn’t mind the rain. He never had. But he realised now that that opinion had always rested on having somewhere warm and dry to return to, a warm fire to sit beside, and servants to draw him a hot bath.

They had servants in abundance, and yet there were no baths to be had, and when the tiny rivulets of water ran down his neck and into his collar, there were not even any particularly dry clothes to be had, for even the packs the horses carried were soaked through within a few days.

In the day they walked, doing their best to spot animal tracks in the dirt as they sloshed their way through the mud- a task made all but impossible by the fact that the water washed any they found quickly away.

At night, the servants set the tents up for them- one for each man. They were already damp by the time the servants pitched them and whilst Robert snored loudly a dozen feet away or so, Renly found that most nights he lay awake, cold and wet and pulling the furs tightly around him as he listened to the pitter-patter of the rain above him.

When he did sleep, he invariably dreamt of Loras, and that, he found was no better than lying awake and thinking about Loras. Often, he dream of that last night they’d spent together, and he’d toss and turn agitatedly as in his dreams, Loras leant in to kiss Daemon Sand once more, an expression of loathing on his face as Oberyn laughter echoed louder and louder. Those dreams left Renly in a cold sweat, his heart pounding.

Those were far from the worst dreams though. Sometimes, he would dream of Loras as he always had been, before Oberyn had turned up unannounced in the doorway to Highgarden's halls. In those dreams, Loras would smile and laugh, his touch soft and just a hint of mischief in his eyes as he leant in for kiss after kiss. Those dreams warmed Renly right down to his toes, and Renly would awaken sure that their parting was a mere nightmare before rolling over to seek out Loras’ comforting warmth beside him, desperate to draw Loras’ arms around him and whisper sleepily in his ear that he’d had the most terrible of dreams. Each time though, he found only emptiness beside him- no warm body to curl up next to and certainly no warm arms to hold him tight. Never before had Renly felt so alone.

Still though, he had no choice but to rise each morning and plough on. And for almost a fortnight, they walked, with no sign of their quarry. They walked until Renly’s legs were sore, his clothes spattered with mud, and his cheeks bearded. And whilst Renly thought that nobody could be half as miserable as he was, it was clear that the rest of the party were in low spirits too- their cheer worn away with the mud and the rain.

Only Robert remained impervious, and he led the way through the undergrowth with his squire close behind him, handing him wine when he roared for it.

It was only on the thirteenth day that the Gods saw it fit to grace them with a little luck. It was Ser Barristan who spotted the doe’s tracks, but Robert who ran it threw with his spear, bellowing out a raucous cry like that of a bull, its blood staining Robert’s arms in his wife’s colours. He paid no heed to the fact that it was a poor specimen at best, and despite his dismal mood, Renly could only be relieved to see that Robert’s blood lust was finally sated.

 

* * *

 

 

It was dark by the time they returned to the Red Keep, but despite the hour and the fact that his clothes were stained and stiff with mud, Renly dragged himself up to the ravenry before heading back to his chambers. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to have even a chance at sleeping without checking that there was nothing from Loras.

He left the ravenry empty handed and disappointed. He tried to be a little hopeful that Alyn might have collected any letters for him, and yet whilst Alyn very well may have done, Renly imagined he was clutching desperately at straws to think that there would be any word from Loras. 

Alyn had evidently long gone to bed and yet Renly thought he’d check his writing table for his letters before he roused him to draw him a bath. As permanent as Loras' silence seemed to be, Renly refused to let go of that one last glimmer of hope. It was the only thing getting him out of bed in the morning.

He’d barely opened the door though, when he made out a shape sitting on his bed. He almost fell to his knees to see that it had a lot of curly hair. 

“ _Loras_ ,” he whispered, desperate to go to him but waiting for a sign that Loras would let him. “You came back.”

Loras shrugged, and even in the dim light Renly could see that Loras was as exhausted as he was. “I think we need to have a very long conversation,” he said stiffly.

Torn between hope and fear, Renly slowly nodded.


	100. Chapter 100

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies! Went to Barcelona last weekend and ended up staying five days longer than planned. WIll try and get Broken Mirrors out as soon as possible too :): 
> 
> It's super late here, so please forgive me if I reply to the latter half of comments on the previous chapter tomorrow :)

The thought of a long conversation was an ominous one but Renly imagined that merely making love and pretending that they'd never argued wouldn't quite be enough this time. Steeling himself thus, he took a deep breath and made to join Loras. Quite honestly, he was prepared to say everything and anything that he needed to in order to convince Loras to stay, but even so, he reckoned the night would be a long one and he would be lying to himself if he said that he felt particularly hopeful.

Loras hadn't moved from the bed and Renly glanced down at his filthy clothes, heavy with water and mud on behalf of the rain that was still pouring down outside. As much as he knew that he and Loras needed to talk things through sensibly,, he was desperate too to run to Loras, to hold him in his arms and forget about the fact he was soaked to the very skin. He imagined, though, that Loras might very well recoil if he tried to touch him in such a state, and so he hesitated, torn.

He must have hesitated that little too long, for Loras made the decision for him. “Change if you like,” he said quietly, remaining motionless on the bed.

Duly, Renly stripped off his stiff clothes. His skin underneath was caked still with mud, but despite the camouflage, never before did Renly think he’d felt more naked in front of Loras. Sat on the bed watching him, Loras had such an opaque expression on his face that Renly didn’t know what to make of his mood at all. Usually, he prided himself on being able to read Loras’ expressions like words on a page, but this one was quite a mystery. It unnerved him and Renly felt a new wave of hopelessness brimming around him, threatening to rise up and drown him.

Lowering his eyes uneasily from Loras’ face, he turned away from him. Set upon the table was the small basin of water that he used for shaving, and that he supposed would do well enough now to clean himself up a little. He had no idea whether Alyn had replaced it that evening or whether it had been standing there for the whole fortnight, but for once Renly found he didn’t particularly care. He took his shaving cloth and dipped it into the basin, wringing it out before doing his best to sluice off some of the mud from his skin.

It was a tough job. The water was very cold and cloth very small. Usually, he’d have gone about it quite cheerfully regardless, but Renly found himself all but completely immobilized, desperate as he was for Loras to say something, to ease the tense silence in the room. The wind was howling outside, tearing at the window lattices, and the rain thundered heavily against the glass, but the silence between him and Loras felt the most deafening by far.

He managed his legs and his shoulders easily enough and was struggling to reach his back when Loras did speak, getting off the bed and walking round to join him.

“Come,” he said softly. "I'll help you." He held out his hand for the cloth.

Wordlessly, Renly gave it to him, suppressing the spark of hope that coursed through him as their fingers brushed together. This, he hoped, was the first sign that Loras would be willing to make amends tonight, that he hadn't come merely to torment him further.

Loras’ touch wasn’t particularly tender but it wasn’t unduly rough either, and Renly stood still for him as he washed the mud off his back that Renly couldn’t reach, wringing the cloth into the bowl every so often. He was very thorough though as was always Loras’ way, and he even patted him dry with a towel once he was done. It left Renly a little confused. Usually, he'd have expected Loras' fingers to linger, his touch accompanied by the odd kiss or too. He wouldn't have expected that tonight, but he wouldn't have expected Loras to offer to help him either. All in all, Renly didn’t know what to make of Loras' behaviour and he tentatively, he reached out to grasp Loras’ wrist.

“Loras,” he started, but Loras had pulled away before he could take his wrist, going to the wardrobe and tossing a night shirt at him.

“Get dressed,” he ordered.

Renly pulled the linen fabric over his head before he tried again. “ _Loras_ ,” he whispered.

“What?” he asked shortly, his brow furrowing.

“Just come here won’t you?” Renly breathed, lifting his arms a little hopefully. He winced when Loras hesitated, rocking back on his heels as if he had no desire to come closer. But then, slowly, he took a step towards him and then another. He inched forward until eventually he was near enough that his breath was warm on Renly's cheek. His expression was surprisingly soft on closer inspection, and when Renly lifted his arms for a second time, he consented to leaning his head against Renly’s shoulder, pressing his face against the soft linen of Renly’s night clothes. He even let Renly put his arms around him and he surely must have felt the sigh of relief that Renly let out against the top of his curls.

There was so much that Renly wanted to say but he held him there in silence, listening to Loras’ steady breathing and contenting himself with the knowledge that Loras was here for the moment. He knew that  
this didn’t truly mean anything, that everything suddenly wouldn’t be all right just because Loras was consenting to let him hold him for the present, but he savoured every moment all the same. With the rain streaming down the window panes, if he closed his eyes, he could even imagine that he was back in Storm’s End and that everything was as it should be. That of course wasn't the case, but Renly liked to hope that it at least meant that Loras wasn't completely set on hating him.

They stood there for a good long while until eventually, Renly thought he had no choice but to brave the storm. “Come Loras,” he sighed. “We still need to have that conversation don’t we?”

Loras nodded, raising his face to Renly’s. He took both of Renly’s wrists in his hands and led him over to the bed. He too evidently thought that any conversation they had would be better had not stood uncomfortably by the window.

He didn’t get under the covers but he did pull Renly towards him a little once Renly was settled on the bed beside him. It was an odd gesture, Renly thought, and one that he thought Loras might have done merely out of habit rather than of his own volition. He wasn't about to complain though, and tentatively, he edged closer, wanting to feel the solid warmth of Loras' body against his again. Even with nothing yet said that might go some way to bridging the chasm between them, Renly had found Loras' proximity to be the comfort he needed, the anchor that a ship safely moored in the harbour. A part of him had genuinely feared that Loras might never deign to come back, and with that in mind, Loras' sheer presence in his chambers was a small glimmer of light in the darkness.

“Gods, I’ve missed you,” Renly breathed, gingerly pushing one of Loras’ curls back behind his ear to better admire his handsome face as he continued to shift closer. “I don’t know whether you read my letters but I really did mean everything I said in them-”

“You know I read them,” Loras said shortly. “In fact, if you must know, I read every single one of them. I didn’t know it was possible to apologise in a hundred different ways, but you have enlightened me.”

“Still,” Renly whispered. “I feel I should apologise in person.”

Loras sighed and turned one of Renly’s hands face up, tracing the lines on his palm with his fingers. “That’s all very good and well Renly, but words are wind. I know you're sorry, so forget the apology, forget even the principle of what you asked of me. I want you to think about the two men you seemed so curious about.”

Renly nodded, hanging his head in shame, for he knew what Loras was about to point out.

“Let’s start with Oberyn Martell shall we?” Loras asked bitterly. “Now why might I not be so fond of that suggestion?”

“Because of Willas,” Renly admitted miserably.

“Because of Willas,” Loras confirmed with narrowed eyes. “Call it an accident, but when I was sent off to you, both my brothers rode with me as far as Bitterbridge, both sat tall and strong in the saddle. It was Willas who first taught me how to hold a sword, who taught me to ride. And when I next saw him, he couldn’t do any of those things. And whose fault was that? I don’t care if it was an accident, or a bad stroke of luck. I care about my brothers, and that snake took so much away from him. I don’t forgive like you do. I can’t forgive like you do.”

Renly nodded. “I’ll admit it freely. I knew how you regarded Oberyn and I never should have asked you to even think about his invitation, not when it was from him.”

Loras just shrugged stiffly. “And what about the other one then? Ser Daemon Sand, your lover of old? Think about him for a moment too why don't you.”

“Well it’s just that isn’t it, it's because I once almost went to bed with him,” Renly whispered. He supposed he should have thought a little more on which two people it was who had extended the invitation, on why Loras would have every reason to take offence even if the idea itself didn’t horrify him.

“Daemon Sand…” Loras sighed, punctuating each word of his name viciously as if the syllables offended him. “Taller than me, stronger than me, older than me- old enough even to grow a proper beard rather than the fluff that my brothers laugh at me for. You tell me why I shouldn’t loathe him?”

“But you’re twice the man he is,” Renly protested, meaning it too. He was rather stunned by Loras' admission. He'd never thought Loras capable of feeling threatened by anyone, least of all capable of admitting that. He guessed though, that he should have realised that even men as self-assured as Loras had the occasional weak spot in their armour. “He’s a bastard for one, and you’d lay him to waste in a joust.”

“Yes, but you’d seen him fit to take him into your bed once, and believe it or not Renly, but I care what you think." He dropped Renly's hand to better glare at him. "You expected me to be jealous when you pointed him out for me at the feast, and do you know why I wasn’t?”

“Why?” Renly breathed, closing his eyes and sliding his hand into Loras’ curls. He was surprised when Loras let him.

“It was because I told myself that whilst once you might have desired him, you clearly didn’t anymore, because you have me now. Do you know how inadequate I then felt when you then turned around and suggested cheerfully that you might like the both of us? I give you everything Renly, and yet it seemed to me then that everything wasn’t enough.”

“I never meant for you to feel like that,” Renly whispered.

“I know,” Loras admitted stiffly. “Which is why I came back.” He sighed. “And I suppose really that I owe you an apology too. I acted like a scorned woman in that room. I wanted to hurt you, humiliate you. I probably succeeded, but it didn’t make me feel any better.”

Renly sighed. “Why don’t we agree that both of us made mistakes and that we shan’t talk of it anymore?” An apology from Loras had been more than he'd dared to expect, and yet even with that turn in a good direction, he was desperate for Loras to take up his invitation to lay down their arms and put it all behind them. He had no doubt that Loras was to blame for at least the escalation of the situation, but he had no desire to spend any time placing that blame.

“Fine, but what purpose does that serve? Do you want us to merely pretend that it never happened?”

That had been exactly what Renly had been hoping for and he tried to hide the sheer magnitude of the disappointment that threatened to paint itself across his face. “Well what do you want us to do?” he asked softly. “I admit, I had hoped that everything would simply go back to how it was.”

“But do you truly think that possible?” Loras asked, searching Renly's face with his steely gaze. “Your desire to try another man, that won’t change just because the idea horrifies me.”

Renly sighed, disappointed by how true Loras' reasoning was. “I suppose it won’t Loras, but I shan’t let a silly thing like that have any bearing on how I care for you.”

Loras frowned, his face set. "Well obviously you shan't want it to it, but it's not like you can help it."

"What do you suggest then?" Renly asked meekly. He supposed that Loras was right to a certain extent. Nobody could truly control their desires, but he liked to think he could do a rather good job at it. He was no Robert, and he was certainly capable of pushing any desire that horrified Loras firmly to the back of his mind.

“Garlan was the same,” Loras admitted stiffly, surprising Renly with how miserable he sounded. He shifted forward to lean his head against Renly’s shoulder. “He adored Leonette, but he was like you- the idea of taking a single woman to bed for the rest of his life unnerved him. And so, or so Margaery tells me, she went back to Cider Hall for a time, and left him behind, so he could sate his curiosity before he married her.”

Renly supposed that that was how he and Loras had come to hear of Garlan’s exploits with a whore, but he didn’t have much desire to dwell on that for too long- Loras’ words unnerved him rather too much. “What are you suggesting Loras?” Renly asked nervously, taking his hands out of Loras’ hair a little hesitantly. Even what Loras was merely insinuating put him more on edge than he already was, and he couldn’t help but wonder how he’d ever allowed one person to govern him so. He loved Loras, and he would have it no other way, but he didn’t think there was another person in Westeros who had more power to strike fear into him than Loras did. It was a frightening thought, and one that confused him, for usually, he never felt more safe than when the two of them were wrapped up in each other’s embrace.

“What are you saying Loras?” Renly repeated. “You’re not going to leave me are you?”

Loras shrugged. “Well if you need it to be so, I shall go back to Highgarden for a while, and you can fuck all the men you like. As many as you need to. And then I can come back once you feel that taking nobody but me to bed isn’t such a burden.”

Renly didn’t really know what to make of that. He only knew that the thought of Loras returning to Highgarden scared him. “No Loras,” he protested. “I want you to stay, always. And remember what you said? That you thought it rather lovely that we’ve only been with each other? I don’t want to ruin that for you.” 

Loras shrugged again, more bitterly this time, a scowl tugging at his face. “Well that was wishful thinking,” he said, “You’ll take a woman to bed someday. It shall never be just me and so what difference does it make if it’s one or ten?”

He made a fair point but Renly knew that despite his words, this would never really be an acceptable turn of events in Loras’ eyes and secretly, he wondered how much of what Loras was saying was truly his own. He wouldn’t have been at all surprised to learn that Loras had finally confessed the reason for his misery to Margaery and that she in turn had put rather a few words of her own into Loras’ mouth. And whilst he supposed that he should be grateful that Loras seemed willing to let him explore any curiosities he had, he couldn’t help but think that Loras didn’t appear to have grasped the fact most of his interest in what Oberyn had offered them had rested on Loras joining him in those pleasures. He couldn't deny that he was _mildly_ tempted by the freedom that Loras was offering him, but there was no question that that temptation was dwarfed a thousand times over by quite how desolate the thought of Loras leaving his side made him feel, even if it were to be only for a short while.

It wasn’t that though that made him refuse to even consider the idea with any seriousness. It was Loras’ pride that did that, for Renly knew that regardless of what he was saying now, Loras would be utterly humiliated by the knowledge that Renly had found it appealing to send him from his side and take another man to bed in his place for variety's sake.

“You’d hate it,” he told Loras firmly, meeting his gaze. “I couldn’t do it to you even if I wanted to.”

Loras scowled. “I’d rather that than you making eyes at every other man who might be interested for the rest of our lives. I’d hate it, but as long as I never saw you at it and you never spoke of your other lovers to me, I could probably cope, if it were only for a month or two and if I knew that you’d always be solely mine afterwards.”

Renly sighed and put his hands back in Loras’ hair, twisting the stands around his fingers in exasperation. “But I’m not going make eyes at every other man Loras, and I certainly don’t want you to have to _cope_. I want you to be happy.”

Loras’ scowl didn’t shift. “Well I shan’t be happy either if you’re never truly satisfied with just me.”

“But try to understand Loras,” Renly implored. “I’m not going to deny that I’m a little curious, but that’s all it is. Curiosity. I’ve a curiosity for many things. I’d quite fancy crossing the narrow sea, to see the Titan of Braavos and the Sunrise Gates in Pentos, or to journey south and see the Summer Isles, but I shan’t shed any tears if I don’t see any of those things. And you Loras, you shall always come first over everything, over any fleeting fancy that might take me. I would sell my soul to keep to keep you happy if that’s what it took.”

Indeed, he took Loras’ hands and squeezed them tight. More than ever, he wished that Oberyn had never had the fortune to corner him in Highgarden. He couldn't deny it- part of him would have liked to experience what making love to another man was like, but it certainly wasn't worth half of this dispute with Loras.

“Yes,” Loras said shorty, “but think about when we’re old Renly. I don’t want you to look back upon our time together and regret that it’s only ever been me. Just like I don’t want you to lie on your deathbed and lament that you never did see Braavos or those Sunrise Gates in Pentos. I don’t want to be a regret Renly.”

Those words horrified Renly, and he didn't like to think Loras even capable of thinking such a thing. “You shall never be a regret Loras, Ever," he whispered ardently, cupping Loras' chin with his hand. "And I can promise you that I’ll never even think of inviting another man into our bed again. The thought won't even cross my mind Loras."

“That’s all good and well,” Loras said shortly. “But I don’t believe you.”

“You don’t?” Renly cocked his head.

“No,” Loras said simply, running a hand wearily through his hair. “I know what you’re like. You’ll say what you need to and then worry later about the finer details.”

Renly sighed, feeling his heart sink into his stomach. “True,” he whispered wearily. “So where does this leave us?”

Loras shrugged. “Think of it all you like, but you shall never ask it of me. I told you a long time ago that I would consent to having to share you with a wife, but I shouldn’t be able to bear it with another man. Even if it were just for the night, like the Viper suggested it be.”

That seemed a promise Renly thought he could keep and so he nodded hurriedly, wrapping his arms tightly around Loras to hold him in case he suddenly changed his mind. “I’ll promise you that then," he said, pressing several kisses into Loras’ curls. “And will you promise me that you’ll stay even when you have to share me with a wife?”

Loras nodded. “I’ll stay,” he breathed. “I’ve already told you I would, but I shall promise it if you like.”

Renly had never known Loras to break a promise and he felt a little reassured for the first time in weeks. Chancing a small smile, he slid a hand up Loras' back to trace those small circles that he knew Loras enjoyed. Finally, that hollow feeling in his chest seemed to be fading away and Loras’ warmth against his chest was rapidly chasing away the lingering chill that a fortnight in the rain had left him with. Renly had not dared to hope that Loras would stay beside him tonight, he hadn't dared to hope he would stay at all, but it seemed quite clear now that he wasn't going anywhere for the moment. Loras seemed content enough in his arms, and like him, Renly imagined that he was weary of them arguing. Indeed, he was as pliant as a lamb when Renly gently shifted him to pull the covers up over them. He too was probably eager to merely let things lie now and settle down for the night.

It was warm under the covers, and whilst Renly had loathed the rain when he’d been out under it for the past fortnight, now he found it quite soothing. Growing up in Storm’s End had taught him a long time ago that there was nothing more satisfying than being inside warm and dry whilst listening to the wind and rain outside. The relief he was feeling right now only added to that.

He listened to that rain for a good long time, thanking the gods that he didn't believe in one by one for his good fortune tonight, until to his surprise, Loras raised his head, gazing up at him in the moonlight. 

"Can I ask you something?" he whispered. He continued when Renly nodded. “What would you have done Renly? If I’d said I wouldn’t stay when you married?”

He’d have cried, Renly thought, and quite likely would have decided to never take a wife at all, even if it led to Robert exiling him to the Free Cities and giving Storm’s End to Tommen instead. He didn’t voice that out loud though. He didn’t think it would do him or Loras any favours to have him wandering the Free Cities pennilessly.

“I don’t really know,” he said quietly. “I guess I’d despair a little. _A lot_.”

“Would you love another man instead? Loras looked pained as he asked that, and Renly wondered why he'd asked it at all. 

He sighed. He had no desire at all to dwell on this, but right now he’d have probably given Loras everything he owned without a much of a second thought. Duly then, he thought on it. He supposed that whilst in all probability, after enough time had passed, he would take another man to bed, he didn’t think he would ever be capable of loving again like he loved Loras now. “No,” he breathed. “I don’t think I would love again Loras.”

“Why not?” Loras asked, gazing up at him, his eyes wide for once.

“Why?” Renly laughed. “Because when the sun has set Loras, no candle can replace it.” He laid his head back down on the pillow and took Loras' hands in his own, savouring how familiar each of the calloused palms were, every bump and groove engraved permanently on his memory.

Loras gave him a small smile. “You always do say the prettiest things Renly.”

“Well this one I mean,” Renly breathed. “And you’re right, I do say a lot of pretty things, to lords and ladies, and to everyone and anyone that I need to like me, but do you know what?” He pulled the covers over their heads, shrouding them in a comfortable darkness.

“What?” Loras duly asked.

“I only mean them when I’m saying them to you.”

Loras laughed and the sound sent a warm tingle down Renly’s spine to the very tips of his toes. “I do love you Renly,” he whispered under his breath.

Renly knew he did. If he didn’t, he’d still be in Highgarden and he, on the other hand, would still be miserable. He wrapped his arms tightly around him, wondering if Loras knew that there was a good chance he might never let him go. With the blankets still over their heads, and the rain pouring outside, Renly couldn’t think of anywhere else he’d rather be. He didn't even care that there was a good chance of Alyn finding them in bed together the next morning.


	101. Chapter 101

It was still raining in the morning, the pitter-patter of rain soft against the glass, and instinctively, Renly reached out to tuck the covers more tightly around Loras’ shoulders. Unlikely as it was with Loras pressed into his side, Renly would loathe for him to be cold.

It was unusual that Renly woke with Loras still asleep beside him and he found it a great comfort this morning. Part of him had been convinced that Loras might have changed his mind, but no, he was still there, his legs even tangled with Renly’s own under the bedclothes and his face pressed into the crook of Renly’s neck.

He was too warm and comfortable to consider rising, and even though there was a small council meeting scheduled for that morning, Renly merely settled back down against Loras, slipping an arm around his chest and soaking in his warmth.

He wondered if the long summer was finally over, and whether autumn was on its way. Gone perhaps were the days of he and Loras lounging across the bed in nothing but their small-clothes. Renly had no real recollection of the last winter, and for all he’d been told that it was a dismal time, Renly wondered if it might not actually be rather nice to curl up with Loras in front of a roaring fire and bury themselves under a mountain of soft warm furs like an animal tucking itself away in hibernation.

It was a pleasant image and he must have dozed off to it, for when Renly next came to, he opened his eyes to meet Alyn’s own, staring at him from over Loras’ sleeping form. He was still too half-asleep to startle but he did groan, torn between vehemently denying what he knew Alyn already knew and hiding under the bedclothes and pretending that he was still asleep.

Alyn looked just as uncomfortable. He stood like a thief caught red-handed. His cheeks quickly flushed pink and he dropped the pile of Renly’s clothes that he was carrying, the freshly laundered garments tumbling over the floor as a wave might break upon a rock.

Renly just ran a hand despairingly through his hair. If he hadn’t been so glad to have Loras beside him then he might have pushed Loras from his bed, but as it was, he merely tightened his grip on him as if Loras’ sleeping body could shield him from Alyn’s gaze.

It hardly worked, but, oddly, there was less disgust on Alyn’s face than Renly would have expected, and underneath the embarrassment, more than anything Alyn looked distinctly curious, his head cocked inquisitively to the side and his eyes on Loras. Renly supposed that he couldn’t blame him for the interest. Usually Alyn saw Loras at his polished best, clad in silks or in expensive jewelled armour. At the current moment, however, Loras looked anything but polished. His curls were tangled and falling over his face, and it was hard to believe that he was the haughty knight of flowers when you studied him now, curved into Renly’s side and curled up in his arms like a kitten might lie in between its mother’s paws.

Renly supposed he should feel grateful that there was no horror on Alyn’s face, but he felt mortified all the same.

“You should go Alyn,” he said stiffly, and duly, his squire shot out of the room like an arrow released from a bow string.

Once the door was firmly shut behind him, Renly did pull the covers up over his head and hide under the bedclothes. He felt safer under there, and whilst he knew that really he shouldn’t be bothered at all, he felt better still when he shifted further down the bed and buried his head in Loras’ warm shoulder.

He’d only been hiding there for a little while when Loras stirred. He seemed quite confused at being under the covers, and lifted his head, yawning and pushing the bedclothes down.

“Are you trying to suffocate us?” Loras asked, pulling his arm roughly out from underneath him and rubbing his eyes as he sat up.

“No,” Renly laughed a little nervously, sitting up to join him. “I was just hiding from my squire.”

Loras rolled his eyes. “Of course you were,” he said dismissively, though Renly was pleased to hear he sounded a little amused too, which was a great relief considering how tentative the ground Renly was currently standing on felt.

Looking at Loras now though, sat up in bed in the clear of day, his terror last night seemed very far away. He was reminded in fact of something Maester Cressen had often used to say- that everything always seemed worse when it was dark. That pearl of wisdom seemed truer now than it had ever done when Renly had used to awake each morning as hungry as he’d been the night before.

Indeed, Loras looked content enough this morning and before long, he’d lain back down, placing his head in Renly’s lap, a shameless invitation for Renly to cosset him a little.

“I should be at a small council meeting,” Renly sighed, sifting a hand through Loras’ soft mass of curls and twirling one affectionately around his finger.

Loras gave a small indecipherable smile, closing his eyes. “Well don’t let me keep you,” he said airily.

Renly had no idea whether he was being serious or not, but either way, he had no desire to leave his side. “Forget the small council meeting,” he laughed. “I wish to make the most of your presence today.” Renly imagined that the seven hells would have to freeze over before he let Loras out of his sight for more than a few moments today.

Loras smiled properly at this though he didn’t open his eyes. “As you will,”

Reluctantly removing his hand from Loras’ hair, Renly stood and shrugged on a night gown. He supposed he had no choice but to brave Alyn now and stepping outside, he knocked on his door.

“Would you send a message down to the small council chamber and tell lord Arryn I’m predisposed this morning please, and have the chambermaids draw me a bath.”

“Of course,” he bobbed. There was an awkward silence, and yet it seemed that both of them were quite willing to simply pretend that nothing had happened this morning. His squire reminded him of himself a little, Renly thought. Unlike Loras, they preferred to merely avoid confrontations unless absolutely necessary.

Loras was lounged across his bed when he came back, and he looked a little disgruntled to have been left.

“You taking a bath?” he asked, rolling over on to his front and propping himself up onto his elbows.

“I think I need one,” Renly laughed.

Loras nodded. “Yes you really do,” he agreed.

“Why thank you,” Renly smiled. “You were supposed to say no Renly, you’re just lovely as you are, even though you haven’t bathed for two weeks.”

Loras raised a disdainful eyebrow. “Well that would be a lie,” he snorted. “You desperately do need a bath.”

Renly rolled his eyes. “I do don’t I?” For once, there wasn’t even any vanity involved in his haste to bathe. Despite his and Loras’ best efforts, he was still sticky with mud in places and his skin felt like it was crawling.

Loras nodded. “Well I’ll leave you to it. I’m going to go back to my chambers and bathe too.” He shuddered. “I feel dirty just having touched you.”

The bath was as satisfying a one as Renly had ever had. He could feel the mud lifting off his skin and the dirt washing away as he scrubbed at himself with a cloth, and Renly took more pleasure than he ever had done in the expensive soaps that Alyn had laid out for him. He took his time perusing them, using first one and then another, breathing in the deep scent of jasmine or orange or rose petals, smiling to himself when he realised the latter made him think of Loras.

It was satisfying too to watch the chambermaids strip the bed. Renly took great pleasure in fresh linen, and whilst it was hardly proper for him to see the servants at work, especially when he was bathing, he found he rather enjoyed making idle conversation with them. They were a flirtatious lot, and whilst Alyn had put up a screen to try and shield him from view, Renly had to laugh as they snuck surreptitious glances at him whenever they could.

They didn’t stay long though, and Renly did not like to look at the colour of the water when he finally rose from it, his skin wrinkled like an old man’s from his long soak. He merely shrugged his arms into the towelled gown that Alyn had laid out for him.

He dried himself quickly and was just getting dressed when Loras returned, slinking in through the back door to his chambers like a light-footed cat and sliding his hands up the back of Renly’s unbuttoned shirt to loop his hands around his waist.

“Better?” Renly asked, smiling when Loras rested his chin on his shoulder as he often did. He liked having him there, and he leant back slightly against Loras’ chest, always surprised at quite how sturdy Loras was for such a slip of a thing.

“Much better,” Loras agreed, turning his head slightly to kiss Renly’s neck and inhaling deeply.

“You know Loras,” Renly laughed. “I’m told some peasants don’t bathe at all. Can you imagine?”

Loras shrugged. “I guess it would be alike to living like a pig, but I suppose we shall never know.” He tightened his grip around Renly’s waist and tugged him in the direction of the bed, pushing him down onto it.

Renly didn’t know what he wanted, and loath to assume that Loras wanted them to make love, he carried on dressing himself, reaching down to do up the buttons of his shirt. He was surprised though, when Loras slapped his hands away.

“Leave it,” he said. “I like you like that.”

Renly smiled and let his hands fall to his sides. He closed his eyes as Loras reached out to touch his chest, running his fingers absent-mindedly across his skin in purposeless patterns. It felt nice, as Loras’ touch always did, and yet Renly found himself feeling more than a little uncomfortable. More than anything, he wanted to lean in and close the gap between them but he wasn’t overly sure whether he was allowed to kiss him or whether that was a right he’d have to earn once more.

He decided to test the waters, and tentatively, he reached out to caress Loras’ cheek, spreading his fingers wide as he tried to touch as much of Loras’ creamy skin as he could.

Loras didn’t push his hand away and Renly drew courage from that.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispered.

Loras nodded, and he let Renly slide a hand up the back of his neck into his hair. Despite Loras’ words though, Renly felt aflutter with nerves as he slowly leant in, butterflies dancing in his stomach as he closed the gap between them.

Renly had just pressed his lips to Loras’ though when there was a gentle knock on the door. Sighing, the moment ruined, Renly pulled back as Loras too sighed deeply and rose to sit innocently by the window.

Renly hastily buttoned his shirt as he opened the door. It was Alyn and to his credit, he didn’t bat an eyelid to see Loras sat inside.

“It’s your brother my lord,” he told him quietly.

Renly didn’t have to ask which one. Robert had never paid a visit to his chambers in all of his nineteen years. He didn’t need to ask why Stannis had come either. No doubt, it would be to find out why he’d missed a small council meeting this morning, to scold and mutter his annoyances through gritted teeth.

Glancing back at Loras, sitting haughtily still by the window, impatience evident in the stiffness of his posture, Renly made up his mind.

“Tell him that I’m not to be disturbed,” he said decisively.

Dutifully, Alyn disappeared out of the door but Loras had only just got up from his chair by the time that he was back, his head hung like a lowly servant.

“He won’t leave, my lord.”

Renly sighed. He ought not to be surprised. Stannis was more stubborn than a donkey who’d got an immovable idea into its head; he just went about it with less personality.

He ran a hand through his still damp hair. “Well tell him again.”

Loras didn’t bother getting up this time, and Renly wondered too why he’d took the trouble to send Alyn once more. It was cruel really, considering that he knew winter would probably come and go before Stannis gave in.

“He just won’t listen,” Alyn indeed protested when he returned for the third time. He seemed at his wit’s end and looked about to tear half his hair out in frustration. He looked so exasperated that Renly couldn’t possibly send him back.

“Then just leave him out there,” he decided with a laugh. “He can stay there until he gets bored.” He was half way to shooing Alyn back to his chambers so that he could kiss Loras again, but his resolve melted as soon as he glanced at his squire’s face. It was unfair to send him back out there when Stannis was roaming around somewhere outside, and so, a little reluctantly, he bid Alyn sit down.

Alyn hadn’t flinched at all to see Loras sat with him earlier, but now, the three of them shut up in Renly’s chambers as they waited for Stannis to leave, Renly thought he could have probably cut the tension in the air with a knife.

For his part, he did his best to engage Alyn in polite conversation, as if the poor boy wasn’t intruding on his and his lover’s time together and as if he himself wasn’t utterly humiliated by the entire situation.

Loras, of course, made no such effort, and if he found the situation uncomfortable, he gave no indication of it. Instead, he sat silently by the window, gazing out through the misty glass and looking as if he were counting the seconds tick by.

They passed ten minutes in broken conversation, and then Renly couldn’t stand it any longer. “Why don’t you see if he’s gone yet,” he prompted Alyn, who looked torn between gratitude and fear. Indeed, it was clear to Renly that the boy couldn’t make up his mind as to where he’d rather be. No doubt, he wished to avoid Stannis, but Renly didn’t imagine that being holed up in here with him and Loras would hold much appeal either.

Dutifully, Alyn opened the door a crack and peered around it. “He’s still there,” he whispered. “I can see his shadow.”

“Well we’ll just stay in here then,” Renly sighed. “He can’t stay there forever.”

Alyn nodded along, but Loras didn’t seem so enthused. Rolling his eyes in the most disgruntled fashion, he got to his feet. “Seven hells,” he muttered under his breath. “And here was I thinking that the Stormlands bred brave warriors.”

Alyn flinched at his words. “You’re not going to send me back out there are you Ser?”

“No,” Loras said irritably. “I learnt a long time ago that if you want something done properly, you have to do it yourself.” Head held high, he stalked off as if to war, even though he wore no sword at his belt.

“Loras, wait!” Renly called after him, fearful of the confrontation that might follow. But he was too late, Loras had disappeared out the door and was marching staunchly down the corridor. As if in solidarity, Renly and Alyn crowded about the slightly open door, desperate to hear what Loras was intent on saying.

“Lord Stannis,” Renly heard him say sweetly, so sweetly that it sounded laced with poison. “Lord Renly is indisposed right now. I’m sure he’ll pay you a visit when he has the time.”

Renly winced. He had no doubts as to what Stannis would assume he was indisposed _with_. All the same, he forced himself to listen for his brother’s reply.

“Ser Loras,” Stannis said stiffly, and Renly was surprised to hear that Stannis evidently knew Loras’ name. He had to laugh despairingly at Stannis’ address of him though. Only his brother would still feel bound to use a man’s proper title even when it was clear to all parties that he loathed them.

“Yes?” Loras prompted.

“That is a lie.” Stannis said shortly.

“Is it?” Loras asked innocently, and then immediately his tone changed. He was obviously tired of false courtesy. “Fine then,” he snapped. “Renly doesn’t want to see you, so get out.”

“The impertinence,” Stannis muttered through gritted teeth. “You forget your place Ser Loras. I am brother to the King, a lord.”

“So you are,” Loras hissed. “But from where I stand, you’re nothing but the lord of a lonely rock that nobody else wanted.”

Renly flinched at that, though he couldn’t help but feel a little smug too. He knew best of all how much of a slight Dragonstone was to its lord. Robert could insist that he’d put Stannis there in recognition of his firm hand against Targaryen loyalists from dusk until dawn, but there would never be any hiding the fact that really, Robert cared little for how he’d slighted the elder of his two brothers.

Indeed, though Renly could not see Stannis’ face, he could feel the anger coming off him in waves, and he knew that his teeth would be grinding and the vein in his forehead would be throbbing dangerously.

Renly wasn’t sure who spoke next but before he could work it out, both Loras’ and Stannis’ voices were raised and Renly knew that he’d let this go too far.

He threw open the doors. “What in the seven hells is going on?” he demanded.

Slowly, both Stannis and Loras turned to face him. There was undisguised loathing etched on both of their faces.

Stannis’ expression, though, was particularly stony. “Get this boy out of my sight Renly,” he spat.

Renly opened his mouth to reply but Loras got there first, scowling as he wheeled at Stannis.

“Why don’t you remove yourself from ours instead?” He hissed. “I think I’ve made it clear that you’re not wanted here.”

Renly sighed. “Loras, please, calm yourself.” He beckoned Loras to his side, but as it became clear that Loras had not the slightest intention of obeying, Renly stepped forward to stand between them.

Stannis’ jaw was still set, but he seemed to calm a little now that Loras wasn’t so close. “You were supposed to be at a meeting this morning Renly,” he said stiffly.

Renly shrugged carelessly. Stannis didn’t intimidate him. He could grind his teeth as much as he liked, but truly, on the bad side of Robert as he usually was, Stannis had very little power. “I sent a message,” he explained evenly. “I was occupied.”

Stannis narrowed his eyes and turned his gaze on Loras. “Were you?” He asked softly. “I can well believe it. Occupied with what I might ask?

Loras turned his nose up at that, and stepping forward, he made his way round the shield that was Renly’s body. “What do you care what he was engaged in?” he spat. “Nobody asks questions about the pathetic attempts you make in your wife’s bed behind closed doors.”

Again, Stannis’ vein started to throb, and Renly saw he needed to step in once more. “Enough is enough,” he laughed, doing his best to smile cheerily at Stannis in a way that he knew would get under his skin. “I shall come to the next small council meeting as you wish, and you shall kindly let me go about my day brother,”

“You shall not miss another meeting.” Stannis said shortly, warning in his tone.

“No brother,” Renly agreed. “I shall not miss another meeting.” He smiled and beckoned Alyn forward. “My squire now will kindly escort you out.”

Stannis did not look happy about it, but he followed Alyn out, his plain brown cloak flying behind him that made a mockery of what a fine lord such as himself should wear.

Renly watched him leave, a feeling of exhaustion washing over him and his cheeks threatening to burn red now that Stannis could not see.

Loras, however, smiled as Renly led him back to his bedchamber.

“You can thank me later,” he said proudly.

“Yes Loras,” Renly agreed meekly.


	102. Chapter 102

“Come here won’t you?” Loras called when Renly lingered by the door, checking that his brother had disappeared for good. He didn't seem to impressed at Renly's dallying, and he stood by the bed, arms crossed over his chest and an expression of haughty disdain etched upon his face. 

“Just a moment,” Renly laughed, watching the door swing shut behind Stannis at the end of the corridor. “I don’t want him to assume th-“

“-that we’re fucking?” Loras finished for him with more than a little irritation. “On the contrary, let him assume that. I _hope_ he assumes that. I hope he can't get to sleep tonight because of it, and that instead he lies awake and miserable.”

Looking at Loras now, Renly wondered whether he ought to perhaps be thanking his brother for his untimely interruption. He’d been quite unsure of whether Loras was going to let him take him to bed but now that Stannis had riled him up, ruffled his feathers until they stood up violently on end, it seemed clear that Loras _was_ going to, even if it were purely to prove a point. Renly wasn't surprised. He knew very well indeed that the best way to ease Loras’ anger at him was to get him angrier at somebody else. He’d seen it many times before, usually at Penrose's expense. Loras' simply didn't have quite enough venom in him for two people to bear the full brunt of his temper at the same time.

Smiling to himself now, Renly shut the door behind him. He apparently took too much time with that too, for Loras recrossed the room, pulling him impatiently towards the bed, tugging on his wrist like a petulant child who wanted his mother to follow him.

“If your brother thinks he can rain scorn down on us with his disapproving glares and talk of sin," he muttered, "well he has another thing coming. It makes me _angry_ ," he hissed, "so angry that I want to go and fuck loudly outside his precious chamber door.”

Renly laughed and let Loras pull him across the room and push him inelegantly down onto the freshly laundered sheets. He wasted no time with kissing him this time, launching himself at him as if he feared that they were about to be interrupted again. And maybe he had a sixth sense that Renly didn't, for they'd only got themselves into a state of partial undress before the sound of a very hesitant knock rang about Renly's chambers. 

Sighing, Renly put his finger to Loras' lips, but even that wasn't enough to prevent the indignant growl rolling off of Loras' tongue. Renly's strong arms around him weren't enough either to prevent him tearing himself away from the bed and storming across the room like veritable thunder. He was quite a sight to inspire fear, Renly thought. With his under-shirt unlaced and the imprints of Renly’s hands almost visible in his wild hair, he looked more like a lion than a rose- a particularly hungry one perhaps that had just been on the verge of pouncing upon its prey.

It was Alyn again and the meek " _Janos Slynt wishes to see you_ ," came out in such a rush of words that Renly knew his squire was terrified, that he'd probably spent a good few minutes pacing around outside as he considered whether to knock or not. 

Loras was not impressed. “Estermont,” he growled venomously, “unless you want to join in, I suggest you do us both a favour and fuck off for a couple of hours.”

“ _Loras!_ ” Renly exclaimed but that was all he could manage. As if it wasn't enough that Loras had opened the door half undressed, he'd had to go and say something like that. Renly didn't think he'd ever been more mortified.

Alyn looked speechless too and Renly closed his eyes to avoid seeing his face. It seemed, though, that he needn’t have bothered. The sound of Alyn’s footsteps as he fled were like thunder to his ears, his squire’s long lanky legs surely serving him well.

“What?” Loras muttered when he saw the horror on Renly’s face. “A good squire should know when he’s not wanted.”

“As if you can talk.” Renly protested, exasperated. “You followed me around like you were welded to me.”

“Yes, but I was _always_ wanted.” Loras said smugly. “Now come here. I want to undress you before you have any more visitors.”

Renly found it in him to laugh weakly at that, and he let Loras divest him of the rest of his clothing. He was aware that this was entirely on Loras’ terms though and whilst that made him a little nervous, he thought that that was probably how it had to be for the instant. The waters between them were troubled still- not quite perilous anymore- but certainly rocky enough to put Renly on edge. All the same, he savoured each kiss Loras gifted him with, relishing each soft press of his lips with an unbounded joy, even if there was an odd mix of tenderness and aloofness in Loras’ touch and Renly had to wonder if he was feeling wary of being too generous with him. 

Renly, for his part, took everything slowly, letting Loras guide him at his own pace- something that became more and more difficult the more clothes Loras lost. Reading the mood like an open book, Renly had expected that it would be Loras who took the more dominant role. He was surprised thus when, after Loras had leant over and retrieved it himself from under Renly's bed, Loras pressed the small vial of oil into Renly's hands, turning himself quietly around so that Renly could get him ready. No words passed between them but Renly felt as if Loras had handed him something colossal- an unspoken declaration of trust perhaps, that oddly, warmed Renly's heart more than any of Loras' touches so far had. 

It felt strange, Renly thought, and he felt oddly detached from it all as he slipped a gentle finger into Loras. It seemed almost as if the two of them felt that this was something which they _ought_ to be doing, but something too which neither of them were fully at ease at. Usually, the two of them laugh together as they proceeded to make a tangled mess of Renly’s sheets, or else share lingering looks if the humorous mood hadn’t taken them, but today, everything was oddly silent, and Renly had the distinct feeling that Loras was trying to avoid making eye contact with him- something that was very difficult to be certain of for Renly was surely trying to avoid eye contact with him.

Loras’ hand was strong as it forced Renly’s chin up, his legs strong too as he climbed astride him. 

“Look at me,” he whispered.

Renly did and Loras' expression surprised him. His eyes were wide, earnest even, and they widened even further as he lowered himself down onto Renly’s cock, slowly taking inch after inch. There was a fierceness there too though, and sat atop him like that, with his back arched and his hair falling about his face in a tumble of tangles, he seemed to Renly wilder than the wind, as untameable as the sea and more beautiful than any starlit sky.

Renly had to sigh as he looked at him. As close as he’d come to losing him, it seemed to Renly that he was seeing him anew, seeing the beauty afresh like a new dawn.

“What are you thinking about Renly?” Loras asked breathlessly as he sank down further, his hands trailing down Renly's chest and leaving trails of warmth in their wake.

“What sort of question is that?” Renly whispered, his voice hoarse from the tight pleasure of it all. “I’m thinking about you.”

“And only me?”

Renly nodded thickly, and almost instantly, he could see the tension seeping out of Loras, the lines of his body softening until Renly felt they were equals once more. He felt suddenly braver then, and holding him tightly, he gently rolled Loras over onto his back. He knew that Loras liked the feeling of his weight above his, and he thought they both might be glad for the reassurance that kisses could bring at the current moment.

“Loras,” he whispered, sliding a hand beneath Loras’ neck to fan his hair out against the pillow. “I love you. It shall always be you. And only you.” 

“Promise?” 

“Promise.” Renly breathed against Loras’ mouth, the word half a kiss. “Now hush.” Renly pushed up into him harder and made Loras whimper, his eyes fluttering closed in a flurry of lashes like the beating wings of a butterfly. 

“That is not going to make me hush,” Loras whispered.

Renly laughed softly, propping himself up on his arms to get more leverage. He smiled as desire painted itself across Loras’ face, tangible almost in the blush of his cheeks, in the slight parting of his lips. He greatly enjoyed making love to Loras in positions where he could see his face, and today he was particularly glad of it.

“Come closer,” Loras breathed, and duly Renly bent his head closer to Loras’. 

“I want to explain something to you,” Loras whispered into his ear, his lips warm and his voice like honey.

“What Loras?”

“I want to tell you how I feel when we’re together, Renly,” he said breathlessly, the words escaping his lips like water sinking through sand, “together like this I mean.” He paused, closing his eyes for a moment. “We move together, Renly, we think together. I don’t have to tell you what I want. You just _know_.” He pushed himself closer, rolling his hips up against Renly’s. “And when you’re this close inside me Renly, even though no septon shall ever tell us so, to me, it truly seems that we’re of one flesh, or one soul. I don’t need a black and gold cloak to make me feel like that.” He looked up at Renly now and his gaze was so intense that Renly thought he could see real flames dancing in his eyes. “And the _euphoria_ , Renly, that comes with that feeling, I can’t describe it. It’s like… “

They were barely moving now, Renly’s movements stilling as he listened. “It’s like what?” Renly whispered. It was a rare occurrence indeed that Loras put feelings into words and he felt a little awed by it.

“I don’t know,” Loras sighed softly. “I guess it’s as if the rest of the world melts away, Renly, and there’s nothing left but you and me.”

Renly smiled quietly down at him, his chest feeling oddly tight. “I think I know the feeling you mean,” he breathed, for he did. It was easy to forget that anyone else existed at all when he was with Loras.

“But the thought,” Loras continued, and his voice was less soft this time, “the thought of somebody else being this close, or somebody else feeling your hands in their hair, or your hot kisses against their lips, it makes me want to despair.” 

Renly held him close, brushing his lips softly against his forehead. “I shall never give you cause to despair again, Loras, I promise.” Loras had smiled as soon as he'd spoken, and Renly revelled in the way he could put Loras back together with but a few honest words. 

Renly closed his eyes as he started moving again. They did move together, think together; their bodies seemed even to fit together, but whether this was because they’d been born to fit into each other’s embraces, or because their bodies had a memory of their own, capable of remembering every curve and dent and groove, Renly didn’t know. What he did know was that they moved as one, moving in time as if to some invisible drummer that only the two of them could hear, the same rhythm and melody thrumming through their bodies in unison. And Renly found he could pick up the most minute of signals from him, that he could tell from the slight inclination of Loras’ head that he wanted him to tilt his head back and kiss his neck, or that Loras wanted him to push into him a little harder when he made that tiny little noise in the back of his throat.

He supposed Loras was right. They truly did feel as if they were but one man when they were together like this, and that, Renly thought, was a truly marvellous feeling indeed.

 

* * *

 

 

Renly was true to the promise he’d made to Stannis and he turned up with time to spare to the next small council meeting, which took place a few days later. Lord Arryn was already seated when he arrived, staring pensively at the pair of Valyrian Sphinxes that stood either side of the door. His gaze flicked to Renly himself when he saw him enter and Renly was a little confused to see him stare more than a little bit.

“Long day?” he inquired cheerfully, and Jon Arryn snapped out of his reverie in as little time as it had taken for Renly to get the words out of his mouth.

“Yes,” he sighed wearily. “Excuse me. I was just thinking how very much you resemble Robert. For a moment there, I might have imagined myself back at the Eyerie twenty years past. I almost expected to see Eddard Stark walk in after you.”

Renly laughed and glanced behind him. “That would be a marvel,” he chuckled. “I shall have to find a friend who resembles him.”

Jon Arryn appeared not to have particularly heard him. “You take after your father,” he commented absent-mindedly, rifling now through a few papers on the table. “Both of you do. Stannis too even.”

Renly shrugged. “I wouldn’t know,” he said, trying to summon a face from one of the many paintings that hung upon the walls of Storm’s End. The face he found though was vague and nondescript: a man with a strong jaw and black hair but no real features. “Is there none of my mother in me?” he asked.

“Very little,” Jon Arryn told him. “Perhaps a little of her nature. She had a gentle disposition, was quick to smile.”

Renly had to think then that Stannis couldn’t have taken after their mother at all, but he bit the remark back, all too aware that Jon Arryn was too fair of a man to find much amusement in it.

It didn’t take long for the other five to arrive, and Renly was pleased when he saw Robert walk through the door hot on the heels of Stannis, dressed very finely in a deep red tunic that went some way to disguising his bulging waist. He wasn’t particularly surprised, however. Today’s meeting was to revolve around the celebrations planned for Joffrey’s upcoming name day; primarily the magnificent tournament that the crown prince had demanded; and Renly knew that if there was one thing that could tear Robert away from his whores and drink, it was the thought of a good tourney where he’d be able to whore and drink threefold.

He sank down into a chair at the head of the table. “Let’s get this over with he,” he grunted. “What still needs to be done for Joff’s tourney.”

“Very little,” Jon Arryn told him. “The notices have been sent out, the grounds are underway and men have already begun flocking to the capital. It shall be a large tourney, as is fitting for the occasion.”

“Good,” Robert conceded. “Anyone else, say your say.”

“Tywin Lannister has obliged to supply the winners’ purses,” Littlefinger put in. “At the usual rate.” He gave a small laugh. “No doubt he wishes to cheat us, make a large profit of it seeing as most of the purse will end up in the Kingslayer’s hands anyway, but alas what choice do we have?”

“Your talk of coppers bores me lord Baelish,” Robert said shortly. He gestured once more around the table, and Renly thought he should probably put forward his say too.

“Slynt, useless man that he is, has asked me for more men,” Renly sighed, pushing the letter in question across the table so that it could be viewed. He’d received it that morning as he’d broken his fast, and its impertinence had irritated him more than a little.

“As he always does when a tourney is on the horizon,” Littlefinger said mildly, picking up the letter with long fingers and barely glancing at it before he passed it to the eunuch.

“He wants men stationed in the brothels,” Renly explained. “Men get violent when their blood’s up, he tells me. I do wonder if he speaks from personal experience.”

“How many does he want?” Jon Arryn asked wearily, passing the letter in turn to Stannis who sat on his left hand side.

“I dare say it will be easy enough to find willing men,” Littlefinger said with a suggestive smile. “I think you’ll find that we end up paying them for what they would most likely be doing anyway.”

“Which suits you very well, I imagine,” Renly laughed. “Any coin we pay the extra guards shall quickly pass from their pockets to yours.”

“Mayhaps,” Littlefinger admitted with a smirk, twirling his pathetic excuse for a beard around his finger. Renly found even the sight of it annoyed him. It was streaked now with grey and Renly reckoned that he himself could have grown a more impressive beard in a few weeks.

“Then we must find honourable men,” Barristan suggested. “Men who take their duty seriously.”

“I think you’ll find men have little honour when faced with a pretty face,” Varys said softly. “Or a pair of open legs.”

Stannis’ face twitched at that and everyone turned to hear what he had to say about the thought of being faced with a pretty face or a pair of open legs.

“There is a simple solution,” Stannis said stiffly, looking at the Janos Slynt’s letter with so much venom that Renly would have thought the lowly cretin was actually standing before him.

“Well split it out brother if you’re so damn clever,” Robert said impatiently.

“The brothels should be closed.” Stannis said shortly. True to his nature, he offered no further explanation.

Silence fell slowly over the table and Renly wondered if he were the only one amongst them fighting the urge to laugh. Glancing sideways at Littlefinger and Varys, Renly thought not. The eunuch hid his amusement well, but lord Baelish did a poor job. His smile was small and wry but his eyes were dancing. 

“Lord Stannis no doubt means for the duration of the tourney?” Varys inquired, one eyebrow soaring high into his powdered forehead.

Stannis’ face hardened. “No.” he said. “They’ve no place in civilised society. They breed sin. Corruption. _Bastards_.” His voice tightened on the last word and Renly was wondered if that was a thinly veiled jibe at Robert, whose ability to get a child on a tavern whore was legendary throughout the realm.

Robert perhaps took it as a jibe too. “A worthy idea brother,” he spat. “And perhaps you’d like to outlaw eating, shitting and breathing while you’re at it too?”

Stannis’ mouth hardened, his expression still cold and stony. Even he didn’t dare argue with the king though.

“I’d think you were trying to ruin me, lord Stannis” Littlefinger suggested with a smile.

Renly laughed heartily at that. “Now that _would_ be a good idea.”

Littlefinger smirked. “You wound me lord Renly,” he laughed. “It would take a lot more than a few closed brothels to put me to ruin.”

Renly just laughed, and sensing Stannis’ cold eye on him, turned duly to listen to the last arrangements that they were to make for the tourney of his least favourite nephew.


	103. Chapter 103

If Renly had previously thought that autumn might be upon them, by the time that the morning of Joffrey’s name day dawned, he’d surely been proved thoroughly wrong. As if the Gods were laughing at the mere suggestion of autumn, the weather had suddenly turned sweltering again, the sun blazing insolently in the sky from dawn until dusk. It made getting anything done almost impossible, and thrice the small council had had to be adjourned on account of the unbearable heat, for which Renly had been very glad.

Robert, however, seemed to have gained a new lease of life. He watched with unconcealed glee as the serving girls went about their work, dressed in ever less clothes and their thin cotton dresses clinging to their skin ever more as the day progressed. It was long hard work for them and Renly had seen more than one of them faint in the blisteringly hot hallways of the red keep. 

Renly felt sorry for them. He was used to the heat; he’d grown up it in, but whereas there had always been a cool breeze rolling in off the bay at Storm’s End, the air in the capital was sticky almost, too still, like a stagnant pond whose stench hung over you, clung to you as you passed. Even the wind was hot and within a few days, any part of the red keep that wasn’t shrouded in shade became virtually deserted.

It had even been a week now since Loras had slept in Renly’s chambers. Not because they had quarrelled, and not even because Renly particularly fretted over Alyn catching him there again, but because neither of them could bear the extra heat that came off the other. After two nights thus of he and Loras lying as far away from each other as possible, the covers long thrown off by both of them and Loras so hot that he resorted to spending half the night hanging out of the window like a flag, they decided that it were for their own good if Loras returned to sleep in his own chambers. Both of them slept easier for it, and yet Renly found he missed having him there all the same. 

 

* * *

 

Renly had previously been looking forward to Joffrey's name day tournament, but now he wasn’t so sure. The tourney grounds were no cooler than his chambers were and everywhere Renly looked were bright colourful fans, the poorer women fanning themselves and the richer ones being tended to by a handmaiden. It was so hot that Renly almost decided not to compete, and it was a decision that he may very well have gone ahead and made, had it not have been considered a grave slight to his nephew on his name day.

He knew that it was something he had to do, and yet, nevertheless, he was beyond miserable when he saw Alyn laying out his heavy plate armour in his tent. He’d spent all morning deciding what he would change into once the jousting was over and he’d settled on a thin tunic of spun gold that was so light and airy that it felt like water against his skin that he would pair with a beautiful black half-cape that he'd barely feel upon his shoulders. With that outfit still in his mind’s eye thus, the thought of clambering into heavy armour made Renly want to lie down on the floor and die, or else run and jump into the Blackwater as he’d seen many of the smallfolk do that week.

“Why can’t I joust in my small-clothes?” Renly moaned as Alyn lifted the breastplate into place, fastening it over his shoulders.

“I think that might be a little painful, my lord.” Alyn said with a smile.

Renly laughed, wincing a little as he imagined a lance hitting him in his unarmoured chest. “True,” he sighed. “Well, I suppose I shall have to grin and bear it then. If you see somebody burst into flames on the field today though, rest well assured that it shall be me.”

Alyn chuckled at that, but he carried on dressing Renly all the same, bending to fasten the leather greaves before slipping the metal ones over the top. At Renly’s request though, he left both the gorget and the gauntlets off. Those, Renly thought, he would only put on when he really had to.

Renly had been right to fear that it would be like a furnace inside his armour and he was still complaining good-naturedly about it when Loras swept in through the gap in the tent flaps. He was already armoured too, in yet another new suit of armour. This one was forged in silver, but painted upon in gold leaf with multitudes of flowers that shone golden in the sunlight. It was as beautiful as his last set and Renly remembered suddenly that he’d promised himself back in Highgarden that he’d get a new suit forged for himself, a delight that had slipped his mind. This time, however, he was determined to have something fittingly beautiful made for the next tourney and he thought he would make a point of asking Loras where he got his made.

Loras didn’t seem to notice he was being admired. He only noticed that Renly had been grumbling about something. “What are you moaning about?” Loras asked, eyebrow raised condescendingly.

“The heat,” Renly laughed, wiping his brow with the back of his hand. On days like this, he almost wished he were balding like Stannis. It would have been a lot cooler. 

“Oh do grow up,” Loras told him. “It’s only a bit of sun.”

That wasn’t fair, Renly thought, and he was tempted to bring up the way Loras had hung despairingly out of the window but a week past, so far over the sill that Renly had feared him about to fall out of it. Only Alyn’s presence prevented him mocking him now for it, and instead he just made a face at him. “But it’s so hot,” he laughed. “I feel like I’m about to die.”

“You do?” Loras cocked his head. Absent-mindedly, he picked up a cup of water that Renly had set upon the table, swilling it about lazily.

“Excuse me,” Renly protested indignantly. “You can’t drink that. It’s mine.” He wouldn't stand for that. It was not fair at all that Loras might come in here to first insult him for not being able to bear the heat and to then proceed to stealing his refreshment.

Loras rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to drink it.” He paused thoughtfully.” Here,” he said, and in one fluid motion, he reached up and tipped the cup over Renly’s head.

It was cold and Renly jumped as the water trickled down his neck. “What was that for?” he exclaimed.

“Feet better?” Loras asked, a small smile tugging at his lips and an empty cup in his hands.

Renly started to shake his head and then he had to nod. “I do actually,” he admitted reluctantly. “But _still!_ My hair’s all wet.”

Loras shrugged, and carelessly, reached out to twirl a strand of Renly’s wet hair about his finger. “I like it,” he decided. “Now come, the herald’s already announced the first tilts. You’re against one of Walder Frey’s bastards. Your hair will probably even have dried by the time we walk over.”

That was true, Renly conceded, and with one last shake of his head that sent water drops flying everywhere, he followed Loras out of the tent, Alyn hot on his heels.

 

* * *

 

 

Both of them flew through the first few rounds and Renly found that he quickly remembered why he enjoyed tournaments in King’s Landing so much. The small folk adored him more than should have been possible and each time that he rode out, they screamed his name at the tops of their voices, waving stag banners in his honour, banners that they should have been waving for the Crown Prince.

Loras flew further though. Whilst Renly fell to Ser Mandon Moore in the fourth round, sliding sideways off his horse to the cheers of the smallfolk, Loras knocked down opponent after opponent as easily as if he were slicing through butter. He made no mistakes either. Each tilt was conducted perfectly, his mare gliding down the lists as if in flight before his opponent fell before him, always on the first pass and always with a large lance-shaped dent in their breastplate.

His flowers were given out as usual and the people of King's Landing seemed as enamoured with the idea as those of Highgarden had been. Loras was very generous, and before each tilt, he would toss a white rose into the smallfolk, to some pretty peasant girl who Loras evidently thought had a charming enough look about her to be worthy of his favour. After taking his victory though, it would be a girl of the nobility who received the honour, an honour that Loras would press into her hands personally. Smiling, Renly watched cheerfully as lady after lady was handed the purest of white roses, their petals full and blousy like a maiden's lips.

Cersei received the first honour, and she actually managed to raise a strained smile on her icy face at the gesture. She even tucked the rose into her golden hair, if only to put on a show for the crowd. Indeed, the smallfolk cheered loudly as she did so, whistling and waving their banners for their queen. Next it was lady Alyce Graceford, come up from Reach for the occasion. She received her rose with an elegant smile and a respectful nod towards to the knight who was the third son of her liege lord. After her came Cerenna and Myrielle Lannister, sisters who received matching white roses one after the other. They were then quickly followed by the beautiful Allyria Dayne, the betrothed of lord Beric Dondarrion. 

The coveted red rose did not appear until the semifinals, where Loras unhorsed Ser Barristan Selmy rather violently. This time he rode slowly twice around the lists, red rose in hand, until eventually, he stopped before the royal pavilion. Usually, Loras did not dismount to give out his roses, but this time he did, presumably, Renly reckoned, because the girl he'd chosen was too small for Loras to be able to gracefully lean down and hand it to her.

First, he saluted Robert, and then Renly watched as Myrcella started to smile, twirling one of her long blonde curls shyly around her finger. She'd waited patiently as first her mother had been gifted a rose and then her two cousins, but now it was clearly her turn. Indeed, Loras bent before her, placing the red rose gently in her hair and leaning in to whisper something that Renly couldn’t hear but that made his niece blush as deeply red as the petals she’d just been given.

Loras saluted Joffrey this time as he mounted his horse again before disappearing to make way for the second semi-final- a joust between the Hound and Ser Jaime that saw the Hound land in the dust. 

Half the court seemed to bet on the final round, and whilst Renly would have never admitted it to Loras, Renly sorely expected that he was about to lose a great deal of money. Everybody who had anything to their name was betting but there was a definite skew in the wagers. Everywhere Renly looked, he could hear men and women alike putting their money on Jaime to win, a sensible bet really considering that it was more than a little unlikely that the green boy from Highgarden would knock the famous Kingslayer off his horse. Once word travelled, thus, that Renly was taking a punt on betting on the knight of the flowers, lords and ladies alike seemed to be in a great hurt to unburden him of his money.

Quite honestly, Renly made more bets than was sensible. With such high nobility in attendance, there reached a point where betting money was a bore, and so Renly had also gambled several of his possessions, treasured things that he really didn’t actually want to lose. His stag brooch was promised to Cersei if her brother won, the heavy gold and black pin that fastened his cloak to the Imp, and even the sapphire encrusted comb that he’d bought once in Bronzegate had been promised to little Myrcella who had been allowed by her father to make her first bet today with a handful of gold coins that he’d put into her hand. Of course, Tommen, not wanting to be left out, had approached him soon after, and before long, Renly had agreed as well to hand over a very fine pocket knife that had once been his father’s, thinking, after all that Tommen was his father’s grandson.

Only one other person in Renly’s immediate vicinity could be seen betting on Loras and that was Robert himself who Renly saw betting with both Jon Arryn and Littlefinger, before turning too to bet with his wife. Joffrey, on the other hand, of course backed his uncle Jaime to win, though Renly was glad to see that he didn’t appear to have any interest in betting with him. He thought he'd really rather not lose any of his possessions to Joffrey, even if it were his name day.

Set to lose so much, Renly slipped out of the stands in search of Loras. He found him in his tent, Tommas Fossoway making some last minute adjustments to his armour. He seemed pleased to see Renly and yet Renly could tell that he wasn't in much of a talkative mood, no doubt lost already in the upcoming match.

“Are you nervous?” Renly asked him, flopping down into a chair without being invited to do so.

“No.” 

“What do you think your chances are then?” Renly asked with a small laugh. “I don’t want to put undue pressure on you, but really, I have a lot of money resting on you winning this.”

Loras shrugged, a difficult feat in very heavy armour. “I might unhorse him, I might not.”

“You don’t say?” Renly laughed, amused.

Loras rolled his eyes. “Just wish me luck and be done with it.”

“Good luck.” Renly patted him on the shoulder. Loras smiled then, and whilst it was a smile full of promise, Renly didn't feel any more hopeful about the prospect of him losing most of his possessions by the time the tourney was out.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Renly’s heart was in his mouth as he watched Loras ride out, but even he wasn't nervous enough as to not be able to admire the splendour that was before him. Never before had Renly seen a handsomer pair of competitors. Beneath his white cloak, Jaime wore armour of the brightest solid gold money could buy. It shone and glittered in the afternoon sunshine, and worthy he was indeed of the title _the Lion of Lannister_. He had the laziest of smiles on his face, and there was a certain laziness too in the way he floated about the lists, putting his steed through its paces with practised ease, blowing a few kisses into the crowd as he did so. Loras, on the other hand, was no less beautiful. He sat younger, less than half the age of Jaime Lannister, but just as tall upon his mare. More roses had been woven into her mane in honour of the final and yet still she paled in comparison to her rider. Loras wore the same expression as Jaime Lannister, his face too bearing that easy confidence, and as both of them made lazy looping circles about the lists, Renly was struck by how similar they looked, perfect reflections of one another. Indeed, it was if a great mirror had been placed down the centre of the lists; they moved with the same gait, that same effortless grace, one in silver and one in gold.

Renly watched with baited breath then as Loras turned, taking his position at one end of the lists just as Jaime pulled up at the other.

"The knight of flowers doesn't stand a chance," Renly heard Joffrey say smugly to his mother. "Uncle Jaime will crush him."

Renly merely crossed his fingers in the way the smallfolk did to appeal to the gods. "Come on Loras," he whispered to himself. Ironically, he'd give everything he owned to see Loras win today. A shame, he thought, considering that he'd only have to give everything he owned if Loras lost today. 

The gong sounded with a loud crash, and time seemed to stand still as Loras and Ser Jaime set off towards each other. They were both the very embodiment of grace, and the hooves of their horses barely seemed to skim the ground as they all but slid down the lists towards each other, so elegant that they didn't quite look solid, so fluid that Renly thought they resembled phantoms caught in flight, or else a pair of gold and silver petals that were being carried on a swift breeze.

The illusion shattered upon impact. Both struck the other hard and both swayed wildly in their seat, each still a mirror image of the other even in imperfection. When neither fell, they turned for the second pass, new lances passed up into their armoured hands in unison.

This time, Loras brought his shield up in time. Jaime’s lance struck it with the force of the warrior himself, cleaving a great crack through the centre of the third golden rose. It was a good hit, but Loras hit harder still. Jaime's shield falling wide, the lance took him in the middle of the chest. It did more than put him off balance. He was forced backwards, flying off his horse in a flurry of gold, like sand whipped up by the wind. He landed on his arse, his cracked lance still in hand.

A stunned silence hung in the air as everybody stared at him there, their mouths open as they realised it was the Kingslayer who'd been knocked from his horse and deposited on his rump. But then, slowly, Robert began to laugh, a great thunder of a laugh that boomed about the tourney ground, and soon the entire crowd was roaring with him, screaming in delight for the handsome knight from Highgarden at the tops of their voices.

Renly thought he yelled the loudest, and his voice was sore even by the time Loras had reached the other end of the lists, his helm off now as he galloped almost wildly in a large circle, the lazy elegance thrown to the wind in favour of an almost giddy excitement.

Jaime was still on the ground by the time Loras made his circle and he seemed the most stunned of all of them. He seemed dazed as he scrambled to his feet, and it only made Robert laugh harder. Renly had to laugh too as he watched, and before long it seemed like most of the court was inundated in laughter, falling about themselves as they watched the usually composed Kingslayer dust off the dirt from his arse. Only Cersei and Joffrey remained unsmiling, and Renly had to grin even wider at the stony expressions on their matching faces. They did not go unnoticed by Robert either, and upon seeing his wife's pinched face, he only laughed harder, clutching his sides in a most unkingly fashion.

Loras, meanwhile, had stopped once more in front of the royal pavilion. He was staring up into the stands, quite evidently searching for him, and when Renly met his eye, his face broke into an even wider smile as Renly grinned down at him.

Seeing him there, Robert tried to regain his composure. “Ser Loras,” he cried through his tears, beating his fist excitedly against his knee. “How old are you?”

“Five and ten your grace.”

“Hear that you Lion of Lannister?” Robert choked, pointing a fat finger at Jaime. “ _Fifteen_. The lad’s fifteen.”

Jaime Lannister merely gave a small smile, leading his horse away from the lists. “Well the gods were shining on him today," he said quietly, his voice nevertheless carrying across the still air. It was phrased as a compliment but Renly knew that it would have get right under Loras’ skin. Loras liked to think that his skill had nothing to do with the gods, or with luck. Indeed, when Renly glanced at Loras' face, there was a tiny streak of indignation there that Renly reckoned nobody else would spot.

Renly watched on proudly as Loras was handed his bag of winnings, and then it was his turn. Everyone everywhere seemed to be pressing money into his hands, their unfortunate wagers having come back to bite them on the arse. It seemed to Renly that he was given enough gold to roll in, and he was almost tempted to. As this would have been very undignified though, he settled for merely beaming. He was a considerably richer man this afternoon than he had been this morning, and looking around him, it seemed that he had fared the best out of anyone, for more than a few men had been ruined by the day's wagers. They were sat solemnly, their empty leather purses a reminder of why a man should never gamble everything he owned.

Robert too was raking in his winnings. Renly saw him pocket a whole purse full of gold from the Imp, before Littlefinger then approached to hand over a very lovely Valyrian steel knife with a dragon bone handle that Renly wished he'd won. Thoros of Myr too was seen emptying his pockets, and even Cersei handed her husband a green emerald pendant that Robert merely laughed at and told her to get back around her neck.

All in all, Renly couldn't find a thing in the world to complain about, and grinning from ear to ear like the cat who had got _all_ of the cream, he hurried from the stands to find Loras.

 

* * *

 

They rode back en masse to the Red Keep for the feast, and they were almost there before Renly managed to find Loras, or more accurately, before Loras managed to find him. He rode up slyly alongside him, the jingling of his winnings in his saddlebag alerting Renly to his presence.

"Meet me in my chambers before the feast?” he whispered under his breath before riding off. 

He didn't wait for an answer, and nor did Renly have any mind to refuse. He knew what Loras wanted; he could see it in the way he held himself, the taught lines of Loras' body, that he wanted to fuck something, preferably him, and preferably very roughly until both of them were very sore. The feast was due to start any moment and yet Renly had no complaint with that. He split from the group as soon as his horse was put away in the stables and hurried through empty corridors to Loras' chambers.

Loras was there ahead of him. His  eyes lit up when he saw him, and roughly, he pulled Renly into the alcove into which the door of his chambers was set, fumbling with the heavy gold key. “It’ll be ages before everyone’s in the hall,” he breathed.

“What are you suggesting?” Renly laughed, even though he knew full well what Loras was suggesting. Caught up too in the glory of Loras' victory, he risked slipping both hands around Loras' waist, the satisfied warmth that was radiating off Loras tangible under his fingers. 

“I want you,” Loras whispered simply. “We’ll be quick.” He dragged him inside without further ado, the two of them almost tripping over each other's legs in their hurry to get in. 

“Which way round?” Renly breathed as Loras pushed him a little painfully up against the wall, pinning him there with a knee.

“I'm going to fuck you,” was Loras’ rather unnecessary reply. His mouth was already hot and wet at Renly’s throat, his hands tearing at his thin silk tunic like claws, with not a thought to how delicate the golden threaded fabric was. Indeed, Loras was truly without patience. He bit at Renly's chest even through his clothes, pinching with his hands as he strove to undress him. He reminded Renly of a stallion thrashing at the bit as it saw a mare it hadn’t yet mated, and he was pushing his hips up against Renly’s so desperately that Renly would be surprised if they both didn’t have bruises the next morning.

“Come on then,” Renly panted, palming him through his breeches, pinching his cock a little roughly in retaliation for the painful red marks Loras had already left dotted across his chest. “Are you going to fuck me or not?”

Loras made a rough sound in the back of his throat at that, his grip on Renly’s tunic tightening. Almost violently, he balled up the fabric in his fists, his eyes scrunched up so tightly that Renly feared he'd said something wrong.

"Loras?" he questioned. 

“Um,” he whispered, eyes still closed. “I may have changed my mind. It might be better if you fuck me.”

“But why?” Renly asked curiously. Loras often liked to fuck him when he’d won a fight. Winning seemed to get his blood up, and Renly had imagined that winning against the fabled Jaime Lannister, Loras' goal for such a long time, would have had that same effect but amplified threefold. He couldn't understand this sudden change of heart.

“Because, I, er- “ he glanced downwards and Renly realised what he was implying.

“Oh Loras,” he laughed, “ _you haven’t?_ ” He unlaced Loras’ breeches to find the silk lining of them sticky. “Oh yes you have.” He grinned, leaning back heavily against the wall and letting Loras lean against him in turn. “I know you said we’d be quick, but I didn’t realise you meant _that_ quickly!”

Loras just grinned sheepishly and the expression suited him so ill that Renly couldn’t help but laugh louder. He was surprised further when Loras even joined in. Evidently nothing could dampen Loras’ mood today.

“Come on then,” Renly laughed. “I’ll take pity on you and show you a good time.” He tilted Loras’ head back to press a kiss to his throat. “And then we’ll find you a new pair of breeches to wear.”

 


	104. Chapter 104

Each dish was fit for a king much finer than Robert but Renly barely noticed what he was eating at the feast. He noticed only Loras’ sly glances from across the table, tantalisingly closer than he usually was at the feasts of King’s Landing as this time, for he had been accorded a seat of honour at Robert’s own table, not particularly because he was the victor of the day, Renly didn't think, but because Robert had found the sight of the Kingslayer dumped on his golden arse by a mere boy so greatly amusing.

No matter how he tried to ignore them, Loras’ glances were long, lingering, and absolutely _maddening_. Renly found himself driven further and further up the wall with every course. He'd fucked Loras shortly before the feast began of course, but almost painfully quickly, and as each course dragged on after the next, the beginning of the feast started to feel like years ago. Renly was almost quite sure that he'd be as old as Pycelle before it finally ended and he could whisk Loras away once more.

When the food finally did stop being carried out of the kitchens Renly would very much have liked to forgo the dancing entirely and move straight to the bedchamber. Loras, on the other hand, seemed to have other ideas. Regardless of how often Renly made to walk towards the big oak doors that led out of the dining halls, Loras seemed to have no interest in following suit and sadly, Renly didn’t think he’d be able to do even half of what he was fantasising about alone. He supposed he ought not to be surprised that Loras was refusing to follow him. His former squire was too busy revelling in his victory, far caught up in being admired by both men and women alike. Renly supposed he couldn't blame him; the admirers swarmed around Loras endlessly, like bees to the finest honey pot as men begged advice of him whilst women begged a dance of him, their colourful skirts swirling round him like hundreds of butterflies' wings in their attempts to attract him. 

It took Renly half an hour to catch him alone and that was only possibly by beckoning him away so earnestly that Loras must have thought he had something very interesting to tell him.

"What?" he asked expectantly, a flush in his cheeks that had nothing to do with the heat and everything to do with the fact that Jaime Lannister was a little quieter than usual tonight.

“When are we going to leave?” Renly all but whined. 

“Leave?” Loras questioned, an eyebrow elegantly arched in protest as he accepted a cup of wine from a passing serving boy. “Why should we _leave_?” 

Renly dropped his voice. “You were going to…. Remember?”

Loras’ eyebrow perfected its arch. “And I shall,” he said, a hint of amusement creeping into his eyes. “So hard that you shall be weeping my name.”

Renly found it in him to laugh at that. “But _when_?”

“When I want to,” Loras said smugly. “Now be a good boy and go and dance with someone, a girl preferably. You’re monopolising the most popular guest.”

Rolling his eyes, Renly huffed away, cursing the fact that even though he was probably the one who loved Loras best in the hall, Loras seemed to currently have no time for him. Alyn found him by the dessert table, his thinking being that if Loras wasn’t going to take him to bed any time soon, he might as well stuff himself with cake. They tasted better than Loras' cock did anyhow, Renly tried to tell himself. 

“Why aren’t you dancing my lord?” Alyn asked, looking a little curiously at the entire plate of lemon tarts that Renly was trying to fit in his mouth all at once. 

Renly laughed, putting down the plate a little guiltily and hoping nobody else had witnessed him. “Why aren’t you?” he countered, raising a satisfied eyebrow.

“I have two left feet my lord. You know that.” Alyn glanced over at the middle of the hall, the air a flurry with dancing partners, their swirling skirts almost creating a draft in the room but stopping just short. Slowly, Alyn's gaze fell wistfully on Loras who was dancing with Cersei of all women. “I’m clumsy lord Renly,” he continued, sighing. “I’d much rather be like him.”

It was crystal clear who he was talking about and Renly resisted the urge to sigh. He'd only had two squires and they were indeed as alike as chalk and cheese. Alyn was clumsy where Loras was graceful, too tall and too lanky where Loras was undeniably handsome. 

“And why’s that?” Renly asked with a laugh, even though it was rather obvious why Alyn might have preferred to be a little more like Loras.

Alyn sighed, his eyes still trained on Loras. "Well he’s perfect isn’t he?" he said quietly. "He jousts like a god, and if that wasn’t enough he’s probably the most handsome man in the room.”

Renly chuckled at that. “Quite possibly he is,” Renly admitted. “But only when I leave it.” he added with a wink.

Alyn laughed at that, shaking his head at Renly's utter lack of humility no doubt. “Yes but still,” he protested. “ _And_ his father owns Highgarden. It’s no wonder that the ladies flock to him like they do.”

Renly laughed too, popping another lemon cake into his mouth and watching as Loras parted from a rather strained looking Cersei only to be almost knocked over by another wave of young beautiful creatures who longed to touch him, to be beside him, to have him in any way they could tonight. “Yes," he agreed, passing the plate cheerfully to Alyn. "but in many ways, you yourself shall be a more appealing match for any suitor than Loras will.”

A faint pink tinge crept into his squire's cheeks. “Because… because he’s… _different_?” he ventured meekly.

Renly hurriedly tried to take his foot out of his mouth. “I wasn’t talking about that," he said quickly, "but yes, that too I suppose.”

Alyn seemed just as uncomfortable as he was. “Then why my lord?” Alyn asked just as hurriedly.

Renly picked up another saffron bun and bit into it. “Because one day you’ll inherit Greenstone,” he said simply, for it was true. 

“Yes but that shan’t be for a very very long time,” Alyn protested.

Renly shrugged. He couldn’t deny that. His grandfather had died this year, and his son, Renly's great uncle, was rather old too, but there was still Alyn’s father to inherit after him. “It’ll be yours one day,” Renly said, wondering though quite how old Alyn would be when he finally did come into his seat.

“Yes,” Alyn snorted. “But Estermont’s little more than a… what was it Ser Loras called Dragonstone?”

“A lonely rock that nobody else wanted,” Renly supplied helpfully. “Which Estermont very much _isn’t_ , I might add. Pray tell me if you ever decide you don't want it and I might choose somebody else to inherit in your stead. Moon Boy perhaps."

“Yes but _Highgarden_ ,” Alyn protested, a light coming into his eyes that spoke of fond memories. “That ball they had there my lord, I’ve never seen anything like it. There’s magic in that castle. A lovelier place couldn’t exist even amongst the gods.”

“Yes,” Renly conceded with a smile, thinking too back to a night filled with candlelight and peacocks. “But do you know exactly how much of Highgarden Ser Loras shall ever see?”

“How much?”

“None.” Renly said with a laugh. “He’s a third son. He’ll always have a home there I don’t doubt, but he shall never own as much as a broom cupboard. Wish you were more like him all you like, but if you're going to talk about Highgarden it's _Willas_ Tyrell you should be envying.”

Alyn looked a little comforted by that but still he gazed wistfully upon the boy who was everyone's new favourite toy this evening. “True, but just look at him,” he said enviously as Loras was swamped yet again by a group of adoring females.

“Yes,” Renly agreed with a smile. “He’s lovely.”

 

* * *

 

 

He wasn’t lovely at all by the time that Loras did consent to take Renly back to his bedchamber. Loras wasn’t gentle by nature and he certainly wasn’t gentle tonight. He was an alley cat dressed up in a knight's clothing. His fingers dug into Renly’s skin like claws, holding his wrists in a vice like grip, like a feline might its prey, as all but dragged Renly into his chambers.

He was drunk perhaps not on wine, but on his victory, and he undressed Renly like a man who had a vendetta against fabric. The gold silk ripped properly this time under Loras’ hands, the golden threads unravelling like a rope bridge cut loose on one side. He was so rough handling it that he even took Renly’s elegant black cape with it, and the tattered fabric of both garments fell to the floor together, mingling in the air like a torn Baratheon banner that had been cast away to the wind.

Renly was fully naked by the time Loras deigned to kiss him. Even the first kiss was hungry, and there was clear intent behind it as he backed Renly slowly up against the bed, a velvet-covered knee forcing itself in between Renly’s bare thighs with the strength of a lion. Loras’ teeth nipped painfully then at Renly’s bottom lip and Renly knew instantly that there was going to be no lingering in their love making, no sweet flurry of kisses as Loras readied him for his cock. Loras wanted to fuck him and it was clear that nothing would slow him down in pursuit of goal.

Renly didn't bother to resist him and in turn, Loras pushed Renly down onto the bed with such force that Renly wondered if Loras thought he was still jousting. A lesser man would have bruised instantly.

“On your knees,” Loras growled.

“On my knees?” Renly laughed, collapsed spread-eagled across the bed, naked but for a tatter of black cloth that hung still around his neck “Surely not?”

His answer was Loras’ strong hands finding his hips and hauling him up onto his knees, dragging him back to the edge of the bed as a finger slid into him before he was ready.

“Ow!” Renly complained, nevertheless pushing back against Loras’ finger as it pressed deeper, searching for a spot that would make Renly co-operate without the need for force.

“Just stay there,” Loras ordered. He was clumsy with the oil and Renly felt it dripping a silky trail down his thighs before Loras caught it with a quick thumb sliding across his skin, coating it back onto his fingers, not willing to let a drop go to waste. Indeed, his fingers were slick and smooth when they next pushed into him and Renly groaned as they crooked inside of him, Loras not ungenerous even in his haste. They slid repeatedly over that spot until Loras' patience ran out. 

His cock soon followed. It too found that same spot and Renly found himself letting out a long, low sound that was quite involuntary and sounded all too much like Robert for his liking. He didn’t have time to contemplate it though, for Loras’ cock was sliding forcefully back up into him and he was falling forward, the friction from the bedclothes grazing his elbows.

“Hold still won’t you?” Loras gasped, bending over him to nip at his neck irritably. His voice was thick with desire and Renly pushed back against him, relishing the way Loras’ damp chest slid and slipped against his back, his cock still heavy inside him. The heat was heavier still though, hanging over them like a thick curtain as Renly took Loras' cock like Jaime had taken his lance, and soon, they were both slippery with sweat, Loras' curls stuck to his forehead whilst the black strands of Renly's clung to any hand Loras tried to knot in his hair.

It made Loras' job very difficult and he cursed as he tried to thrust back up into him.

“I said stay still,” he hissed.

“I need something to brace against,” Renly choked out, his eyes tightly closed as he gasped for any kind of air, even if it were the hot humid type that filled the room. 

Loras all but dragged him up the bed and Renly only had time to grip the headboard with one hand before Loras’ fingers were pressing into him again, opening him up once more.

“Forget the fingers,” Renly panted.

Loras didn’t need telling twice. Hot sticky hands pressing against the inside of Renly’s thighs, he forced his legs apart a little further, lowering him to the level Loras needed now that he was on his knees on the bed and not stood up. His cock stretched him less this time, but Renly yelped all the same, not as used to it as Loras was. It felt good though, hard and hot against him, and it filled him most satisfyingly with every roll of Loras’ hips.

It made his own neglected cock ache though and bracing himself with one hand, Renly leant down to rub it, desperation finding its way now through his arousal.

Loras slapped it away as if he were jealous of Renly’s own hand. He took it in his own instead, sliding his hand along its length almost violently to his rhythm, biting down on Renly's shoulder to muffle his cries, for even like this, Loras seemed to want to make more noise than was wise.

With hands and mouths everywhere as they were, Renly knew it was only a matter of time now. He closed his eyes as his climax neared, no longer a distant thing that he needed to chase after, but something that he could almost grasp with both hands. 

Loras came first, his release accompanied by a torrent of curses that mingled with Renly’s name as that too rolled off his lips. Renly finished still pinned underneath him, Loras' limbs hot and heavy above him, limp now like a marionette doll. For a good few minutes, the two of them lay there, the heat overwhelming both of them but both of them too tired to move.

Indeed, Loras seemed exhausted as he rolled Renly over, gentleness still evidently beyond him. “All right?” he asked, pushing his soaked hair off his forehead.

Renly nodded wearily. “Cold bath?” he panted out, wiping the sticky hands onto Loras’ chest.

“Cold bath,” Loras agreed with a breathless laugh.

 

* * *

 

Renly had feared that Loras and he had made so much noise in Loras' chambers night that somebody must have heard, but nobody approached them to tell them so, and he heard no gossip from the servants. Eventually, as the week went by and morphed into the next one, he began to relax, and he even walked to that day's small council meeting with a spring in his step, despite the fact that he knew the chamber would be like a furnace yet again.

He was almost the first one there, and it was Robert, very surprisingly, who Renly found already within the small council chambers, sat where Jon Arryn usually did when his grace didn’t turn up. He was dressed in very thin silks that Renly really wished his brother had not thought to ever pick up. They were transparent already with sweat and Renly found himself drawn uncomfortably to the great fleshy mass that was his brother's stomach. 

He gave Renly a nod of acknowledgement as he sat down. “Enjoy last week’s tourney Renly?” he asked gruffly.

“Very much,” Renly smiled, pouring a hasty glass of water before the others arrived and quickly emptied it. He didn't want to be the one who had to wait for the squires to fetch more. “I shan’t quickly forget Ser Jaime landing on his arse a few feet in front of your pavilion.”

“Me nether,” Robert chuckled, and he reached out too for a glass of water. Evidently the heat was enough to make even Robert crave some refreshment other than wine. “Fine lad isn’t he, that Tyrell boy?”

 _And even finer between the sheets_ , Renly wanted to tell him. Instead though, he grasped at a different opportunity that seemed to have presented itself. “Yes," he agreed. "But you should see his sister, Robert,” he laughed, thinking that a suble transition that Margaery herself would have been proud of. “Only fourteen and yet already lovelier than the dawn.”

“Is she?” Robert grunted, draining his glance. “Make you a nice bride would she?”

It took a lot of effort not to sigh, for this, it seemed to Renly, was quite an impossible conundrum. It was almost paradoxical that he might pique his brother’s interest in a girl he’d never met without giving the impression that he wanted to marry Margaery himself. Forcing his composure, he shook his head, deciding to try the best he could. “I’m sure she would Robert,” he laughed lightly. “But I’ve no inclination to marry for a long time yet. You’ve taught me well.”

"Warned you off it have I?" Robert grumbled. "I don't blame you. You know, though, even I looked forward to it once." His tone grew sullen then, and Renly knew better than to push Margaery's beauty once more, not when the lovely Lyanna occupied Robert's mind eye. 

Silently thus, Renly merely poured his brother another glass of water and together they waited for the others to arrive. 

The small council meeting was dull and the heat seemed to be getting to everybody a little more even than usual. It seemed to have invaded the small council chamber by force, bearing down on them through the windows and creeping in from underneath the red flagstones that lined the floor. Even the draft from the door brought in a hot wind that had sweat beading at their foreheads.

It was unbearable and each one of them suffered. It seemed to drain the last of the life out of Pycelle, and within minutes his grey head was nodding off against his chest, perspiration weaving its way down his face in tiny rivulets that made channels in each one of his deep wrinkles before dripping off his chin. Littlefinger, meanwhile, usually crisp and clean in velvets, was practically drooping, his goatee hanging off his face sadly like a wilting flower that had seen too much sun. Varys too, born and bred in such temperatures no doubt, sweated clean _through_ his silks, his bald head shining with sweat like a powdered boiled egg. And no matter how many windows Barristan Selmy’s dutiful squire opened, the poor lord commander of the Kingsguard seemed to continue cooking inside his light armour, until eventually, and Renly really had thought he’d never see the day, Ser Barristan _removed_ the eternal white cloak from his shoulders. Even Stannis didn't seem as icy as usual, whilst Renly himself didn’t think he’d ever sweated as much as he was doing so then, and seeing as each time he and Loras had fucked this week they definitely would have sweated through every layer of clothing they had on had they been wearing any at all, that really did surprise him. 

Jon Arynn, however, seemed to be suffering more than the seven of them combined. He was sweating so profusely that he was practically dripping with it, even despite the purple silk handkerchief that Varys kept passing him.

They’d only been sat there through the first proposal when Jon’s quill slipped from his wet hands. “Forgive me your grace,” he said, his voice as hoarse as Renly felt. “But I think I shall have to excuse myself.” He closed his eyes. “The heat Robert,” he implored quietly to his former ward.

Robert looked around for the Grand Maester, scowling when he saw that he was asleep. “Someone wake the blessed fool up,” he ordered loudly.

Littlefinger duly gave Pycelle a sly nudge, beating Renly to it, for he would have very much enjoyed giving the old man a hard poke in the ribs. “You're needed Grand Maester,” he said dryly, twirling his gleaming beard about his finger as if in thought.

Pycelle gave a soft snort as he awoke. “Yes?” he asked, stumbling to his feet and making Stannis grind his teeth with his sheet incompetence.

“Lord Arryn is unwell,” Varys said patiently, rubbing his powdered hands together and then wiping them on another a handkerchief, a green one this time.

Under the table, Renly crossed his fingers that the bumbling fool of a grand maester would find Jon Arryn satisfactorily unwell enough that they might postpone the meeting. Later, Loras would tell him that he must have crossed his fingers too hard, for by the time the day was out, Jon Arryn was dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s7L2PVdrb_8 And so it begins ;)


	105. Chapter 105

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that this was published on April the first and none of it is meant to be taken seriously in the slightest! :D

Jon Arryn’s death seemed to throw the Red Keep into chaos and it was with exhaustion that he collapsed onto his bed at the end of the day. Wearily, he loosened his shirt, undoing a few of the top fastenings as he stretched out.

“I think I need a cup of wine,” Renly sighed as Alyn appeared in the doorway.

He didn’t need to ask twice and soon Alyn was back with several flagons. He obviously knew Renly well enough to know that when he asked for a cup of wine, he really meant several.

“Come join me,” Renly laughed as his squire set the wine down next to him. “I could do with company after such a miserable day.”

Alyn seemed pleased to be asked and he drew up a chair. “Where’s Ser Loras?” he asked.

“In the training yard probably,” Renly laughed. “But we’re not joined at the hip you know. I don’t know what he’s doing every moment of every day.”

“I know,” his squire mumbled hurriedly. “It just seems like you’re close is all,”

Renly considered that. He supposed it was fair; he and Loras did spend rather a lot of their time together. Wearily, he took a long drain from the cup Alyn had given him.

“Can I ask a question, my lord?” Alyn asked after a while. “A rather personal one.”

Renly winced slightly. A large part of him wanted to refuse but another part didn’t want to deny what was clearly only curiosity. “Go on then,” he said a little reluctantly, swilling the wine in his cup as he tried not to look at his squire.

“Do you and Ser Loras only lie with each other because it’s pleasurable, or because…” he trailed off, “or because you, well, care about each other?”

Renly laughed a little at that, despite the fact that it made him feel slightly uncomfortable. “Both, I guess,” he told him. “Why?”

It was his squire’s turn to look uncomfortable. “I was curious is all,” he said.

Renly mustered a hesitant smile. He was thankful though when there was a loud knock at the door, hopeful that it would put an end to any yet unsated curiosity Alyn had. He was less thankful, however, when it was Loras that appeared in the doorway, even if he was a vision in a deep blue with gold embroidery.

He frowned as he came in, evidently sensing the tension in the air. “Am I interrupting something?” he asked dryly as he pulled up a chair.

“Of course not,” Renly laughed nervously, “My squire here was just asking me a question was all.”

“Oh,” Loras said, a knowing look coming to his face as he took a seat too, by the window as was his favourite spot when he wasn’t laid next to Renly on the bed. “Well we’re both here now Estermont, so ask away.” He reclined back against the back of the chair and tilted his face up towards the sun, completely unabashed as he always was.

“ _Loras_ ,” Renly hissed, “what would make you jump to the conclusion that it was _that_ sort of question.” He could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks and he sorely wished that Loras would share a little of his embarrassment.

Loras shrugged lazily. “Well am I wrong?” He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused.

Alyn looked just as uncomfortable as Renly did and he shrank back against the back of his chair as if he could escape through it.

Loras laughed at his misery. “Well go on then Estermont. Ask what you want to ask and be done with it.”

Alyn was silent for a few minutes and then he seemed to muster the courage to speak again. “What’s it like?” he whispered, “kissing a man?”

“Like kissing a hedgehog if he’s lazy and doesn’t bother shaving,” Loras said dismissively. “But otherwise, no bloody different Estermont.”

Alyn turned a violent shade of beetroot. “I didn’t mean to offend you Ser Loras,” he stammered.

“Of course you didn’t,” Loras said, rolling his eyes. “We all know what you actually mean.”

“We do?” Renly laughed as his squire turned a violent shade of beetroot.

Loras snorted, tipping back on his chair. “As if I haven’t seen the way you look at me Estermont. You practically drool over me.”

Renly’s first thought was to burst out laughing and point out how ridiculous that statement was and then he thought about it a little more. On more than one occasion he’d seen Alyn fixated on Loras. He’d stared at him at Joffrey’s name day feast more than a little intently, and that time he’d been unfortunate enough to walk in on the pair of them asleep in bed as well. A little confused, Renly cocked his head, looking from his lover to his squire and wondering what he’d missed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Alyn stuttered.

“Of course you don’t,” Loras laughed. Standing, he crossed the room, bending down so that his face was level with Alyn’s. “You shall push me away then when I do this.” Smirking, he tugged on Alyn’s shirt and Renly laughed in disbelief as Loras closed the gap between the pair of them, tilting his squire’s face up to his to better kiss him. He was right about Alyn not pushing him away but he practically growled when Alyn squeaked in distress, eyes flicking to Renly’s face.

“It’s all right,” Loras laughed dryly, tilting Alyn’s face to kiss him again, “Renly likes it when I kiss other people. Don’t you Renly?”

Renly just laughed awkwardly. He didn’t know where to begin in making sense of all this and so he just shrugged and picked up the flagon of wine, downing it in one go. It was perhaps that which explained why but a few hours later, he was sprawled across his bed, the room filled with half of his personal guard and yet more flagons of wine littering the floor.

It was not him who decided that they ought to amuse themselves with a game, but Renly didn’t complain as Ser Grandison began asking personal questions. He only did his best to evade each one neatly without outright lying.

“So,” Ser Guyard was laughing. “I say we reveal when we first became men.”

“As opposed to women?” Loras asked lazily, sat as far away from Grandison as possible, sat back again by the window, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Renly’s squire was trying in turn to avoid him.

“Shut it Tyrell,” Guyard laughed. “I’ll start. I was four and ten, a boy in his prime. She was a kitchen girl in Storm’s End. We kissed in the courtyard when she was supposed to be carrying grain to the pantry and we ended in my chambers with the grain long forgotten. I wrote a ballad for it.” And before anyone could complain, he had launched into it, gazing out at the starry sky outside as if thinking of his first love.

“ _She was as fair as fair_  
 _A maid with flowers in her hair_  
 _The grain fell to the floor_  
 _As she begged me for more_  
 _Up the stairways we fled_  
 _Quick to my bed_  
 _And later as we slept_  
 _Tears of joy she wept_ ”

“Thank you Ser Guyard,” Renly managed weakly. “That was illuminating.”

“Why thank you my lord,” Ser Guyard smiled as he stood and bowed, a little wobbly. “Someone else now?”

“I was three and ten,” Loras offered dryly. “I wrote no ballad. Next.”

“Same,” Alyn whispered, shame still in his cheeks. “It was when you sent that girl lord Renly, one of the ones your brother gave you for your name day.”

“Twelve,” Grandison said smugly.

“Thirteen and a half,” Ser Andrew laughed.

Renly paused. He’d been seven and ten when he’d first taken Loras to bed but he couldn’t admit that, not when it would make him appear such a late bloomer. “Four and ten,” he said confidently, pleased to see his men nodding happily along with his words.

Only Loras rolled his eyes and saw it for the lie it was.

Grandison reclined back against the wall, picking up a flagon and drinking straight from it. “What about if you could fuck any girl in the world?” He drained another glass. “I’d have the queen and her golden cunt myself.

“Any girl in the world?” Loras asked scathingly. “Well I think it would have to be that beautiful Maid of Tarth. Just seeing her. A prize for any man surely?”

His comments were met with laughter all around, and whilst Renly had to congratulate Loras in doing such a good job at deflecting what could have been a very awkward question, he had to roll his eyes. “Don’t be cruel,” he laughed.

Loras shrugged, grinning at him. “You’re being cruel by assuming that I was not being serious,” he said with a smug smile. “Now go on, your turn.”

“Princess Arianne,” Renly said quickly, thinking her a suitable choice that wouldn’t raise eyebrows. Hurriedly, he prodded his squire for his answer, ignoring the less than subtle raised eyebrows among his men.

A blush came into Alyn’s cheeks as Renly prodded him and his voice was so small that it was barely a whisper when he spoke.

“We didn’t hear you,” Grandison laughed cruelly.

“Lady Margaery,” he repeated with a slightly terrified glance at Loras.

Indeed, Loras’ eyebrows arched at that news, and even Renly had to laugh at it. He supposed that it couldn’t be totally unexpected for his squire to be a little infatuated with both the Tyrell siblings, almost identical as they were save for that small matter of gender.

“I wouldn’t get your hopes up,” Loras said dryly. “My sister’s a good girl.”

“Is she?” Renly laughed. He had no idea as to Margaery’s exploits behind closed doors, but he didn’t think he’d ever have described her so.

“Yes she is,” Loras hissed vehemently.

“A shame,” Ser Guyard laughed, a smirk coming to his lips as he sipped some wine. “Because I’d probably agree with young Estermont there,”

“I am still here you know,” Loras pointed out angrily, his hand going to his sword belt as if he wanted to avenge his sister’s questionable honour.

“Oh hush,” Renly laughed, doing his best to dissolve the tension with a little authority- a difficult task when he was sprawled out across his bed with a cup of wine in both hands. “You know your sister’s beautiful. She’d be amused.”

“I on the other hand am not amused,” Loras scowled. “And the next person that claims they want to fuck my sister c-“  
What he was planning to do to the next person who wanted to fuck Margaery was not to be known alas because after a sharp knock on the door, it swung open to reveal Stannis, dowdy in brown leather and looking very much as if he were dressed for travelling.

“A word, Renly,” he said grimly.

Renly grinned at him. “Stay Stannis,” he laughed, the wine loosening his tongue, “We’re having the most jolly of times.”

Stannis’ mouth tightened, “Well, I was in middle of fleeing King’s Landing,” he said stiffly, “but I suppose I could stay a little while.”

“Good,” Renly grinned, waving Ser Andrew forward to push his brother down into a chair. “Now have a seat. We’re revealing truths about ourselves. Right now we are asking which woman we would choose if we could take any in the world to bed and I feel you must answer too.”

“My wife.” Stannis said stoically, sat stock still on his chair and looking unimpressed when Ser Grandison passed him a wine skin.

“Selyse?” Renly laughed. “Moustache and all? Now truly brother, who would it be? Think of all the women out there waiting for you. You could have one of Robert’s. Cersei even. Or Ser Loras here’s sister as appears to be the fashion.” Renly ignored the disgruntled noise that Loras made.

“My wife.” Stannis repeated, passing the wine skin on without even taking a sip from it.

Renly sighed, propping himself up on his elbows in disappointment. “My brother’s a little on the unimaginative side,” he apologised to his men.

“Who’s on the unimaginative side?” A voice boomed and Renly grinned to see his other brother appear through the still open door, already drunk no doubt as he continued to mourn for the man who had been his Hand.

“Is the small council reconvening here?” Renly asked.

“Need to drown my sorrows like a king should,” Robert grunted, producing more wine from his pockets as if he were a Redwyne and not a Baratheon. “What are we doing here?”

“We’re telling truths,” Renly grinned, laughing as one of his men sprung up from where he was sat to make room for the king.

“Gods, that takes me back,” Robert guffawed. “Used to do that very thing when I was your age. Only our rules were better. You go round, man by man, and each person says something they’ve never done to see if the others have.”

“And if you’ve done it?” Renly laughed.

“You drink and fuck the nearest whore,” Robert roared as if it were obvious. “You start Renly.”

“Fine,” Renly smiled, feeling the world begin to spin slightly underneath him. “I’ve never got so into my cups that I’ve pissed myself.”

“ _Yet_ …” Loras hissed under his breath.

Robert roared with laughter as he drunk alongside more of Renly’s men than Renly would have expected. He frowned though as he looked around and found no whores. “You’ve never lived brother,” he announced. “My only regret is that Cersei wasn’t in the damned bed with me at the time. Can you imagine her face?”

Renly could and it made him laugh into his cup, almost spitting out the contents in the most inelegant fashion.

Ser Guyard went next. “I’ve never been interrupted in the throes of passion,” he said almost proudly, as if remembering to lock the door at all times was a great achievement.

Renly smiled widely as he drank, trying not to look at Loras as he did so. He thought he would probably burst into laughter if he did, even though he could still picture poor Willas’ shocked face in his mind’s eye.

Robert too drank deeply, the wine splashing down his chin. “Poor Ned,” he laughed gruffly. “That poor bastard’s seen more of me than he ever wished to.”

“You’re not drinking though Stannis?” Renly asked sweetly, his cup slipping out of his grasp as he failed to grip onto it properly any longer. “Not once out of the twelve or so times you’ve taken Selyse to bed these twelve or so years past?”

“Never,” Stannis said, his voice taught.

“Which speaks plain and clear brother,” Robert boomed, and with that he pulled everyone to his feet. “If Jon’s death taught me anything it’s that we need to make the bloody most of everything when we’re alive. You shall be a miserable prude no longer Stannis!” Slinging an arm around the elder of his two brothers’ shoulders, he lifted the flagon to Stannis’ lips and tried to make him drink.

When that didn’t work it was Renly that Robert made drink, and it was with more than a little confusion that Renly next awoke, sure that the floor underneath him was rocking.

Indeed, when he managed to open his eyes, he was surprised to see the sky above him, the pinks and purples of the sunrise making his head spin. He was sure too that he could hear the sound of the sea, and as he turned his head, he frowned to see a mast and sails, Robert stood magnificently at the prow of the boat, Stannis beside him.

“TO THE FREE CITIES WE GO,” he boomed.

“Huh?” was all Renly managed, but all the same, he heaved himself up to join his brothers as they sailed into the sunset where the three Baratheon brothers would live happily ever after in harmony together.


	106. Chapter 106

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha sorry about last chapter guys! Here is what I should have uploaded.... You can disregard literally everything that happened in it. Unless of course it goes perfectly with your own headcanon! StickInsect127 I'm looking at you here! ;) This one picks up from where Chapter 104 left off :)

Renly had never seen either of his brothers cry, but he thought a few tears might have escaped Robert's eyes when Pycelle came to the royal chambers to announce the Hand of the King officially dead and he could only watch as his exceptionally large brother crumpled like an autumn leaf, his shoulders hunching as if he were an old man and his usually ruddy face draining of colour until it was ashen. For the past hour it had been evident that Jon Arryn would not long survive the fever that had taken him, and Robert himself had even told Renly how his Hand had all but slipped away before his very eyes, his speech turning to delirious nonsense as death took him, and yet still, Robert seemed loath to believe it. He shook his head dismally at Maester Pycelle's words, his hands shaking slightly as he brought his cup of wine to his lips.

It was odd to see Robert in grief over somebody who wasn’t Lyanna Stark, Renly thought, and he couldn’t help but wonder whether his brother would have been moved so if it had been he or Stannis who Pycelle had just announced dead. Somehow, he thought not.

“Better go and pay my respects to Lysa,” Robert grunted thickly as Pycelle quietly hobbled from the room, “and write to Ned,” he added. He didn't wait for Renly to reply, and with that, he heaved himself from his chair and left the room as if Renly hadn’t sat by him for the past hour as he’d waited for the inevitable news.

Renly merely sighed as the door swung shut, rising too to follow him out seeing as it was clear he was no longer wanted and that writing to Ned Stark would bring the king more comfort than his company. He wasn't surprised, and yet still, that knowledge stung a little and whilst, as pleasant as he’d been, Jon Arryn was not a man that Renly would mourn personally, it was with a heavy heart that Renly made his way back to his chambers. Death, he supposed, was never pleasant.

The candles were lit in his chambers, the glowing flames dancing on the walls rather pleasantly as if they didn't know that the keep was to be shrouded in black in a final farewell to the Hand of the King. Regardless, Renly felt soothed by the warm light they gave off, and soothed even further perhaps by the fact that their presence signified that Loras had evidently been waiting up for him. He had to smile though when his eyes fell upon Loras himself. Intending to wait up for him as he may have been, he evidently hadn't succeeded in it. He was fast asleep on Renly’s bed, stretched out on top of the covers and still fully dressed. He made a pretty picture, and briefly, Renly sat down beside him to touch a lock of his hair before he got himself ready for bed.

Renly did his best not to wake him as he stripped off his clothes, but he was evidently less successful than he could have been. He’d barely shrugged his surcoat off his shoulders before Loras had stirred, and by the time that he was in his small-clothes, he was sat up completely, his curls rumpled from sleep in the most endearing fashion.

“Dead is he?” he yawned.

Renly nodded. “I believe so,” he laughed wryly, “unless Pycelle is an even bigger fool than I thought and doesn't know how to recognise a dead man.”

Loras snorted and shifted to undress too, his barely woken fingers fumbling on the fastenings. “Come to bed,” he told him, and whilst his co-ordination was still half asleep there was more command in his voice than even Robert usually had, “no point you tiring yourself to death too,” Yawning again, he leant over to tug on Renly’s wrist, not letting it go until Renly consented to collapse down beside him. Neither of them bothered to draw the covers up over them; it was far too hot, Renly thought, for the thought to occur to either of them.

“It’s odd, don’t you think,” Renly sighed as Loras snuffed out the candle, “how Jon Arryn was fine just last week, and now the silent sisters will be lying him out in the sept?”

Loras shrugged, pressing closer despite the heat. “Jon Arryn was old,” he said, “old people die.”

Renly laughed wearily at that. “He was old,” he agreed.

 

* * *

 

 

The funeral was a solemn affair conducted the next day that Renly sat through as stoically as possible, uncomfortable as he was dressed all in black in such heat. Indeed, it took all the self-control he had to sit with poise and grace, rather than tearing the stiff velvet collar of his mourning clothes away from his neck or undoing several of the fastenings on his doublet. Looking around, he could see that many of the other lords and ladies evidently had less determination than he did. Despite the moving words of the High Septon, ladies everywhere were fanning themselves desperately, having to mop their own foreheads with their handkerchiefs in the absence of their handmaidens, and men too were looking like they might be about to melt at any moment.

Mourning clothes were so miserable, Renly had to conclude as he stared at them. Aside from the heat dark fabric seemed to attract, they were so drab, so utterly dismal, and he sighed as his eyes fell upon Cersei, for even the usually gloriously dressed queen was shrouded with a dull black gauze today.

He was glad when it was over, and as surreptitiously as he could, he hung back to let Loras catch up with him.

"Miserable isn't it?" Renly sighed as Loras fell into stride beside him. “If I die before you, please don’t wear black to my funeral.”

Loras laughed under his breath. “I’ll wear red then? And dance around on your grave?”

“Not red either,” Renly laughed with a sharp nod towards the sea of Lannisters in front of him within which Robert was buried, before hurriedly remembering that he was at a funeral and he was supposed to be forlorn. Quickly, he wiped the grin off his face as they entered said sea of blond hair and green eyes. It was a good thing he did too, for he could see Robert looking in his direction, looking equally morbid in black, and somehow, Renly didn't think Robert would be too amused at his good humour today.

His brother seemed to be waiting for him even, and dutifully, Loras slunk back into the crowd as they drew closer.

“A fitting send off,” Renly commented to Robert with what he hoped was the right degree of sadness. “Do you not think?”

Robert grunted his agreement with little enthusiasm. “A good send off for a good man," he said grimly, "Pity our brother wasn’t courteous enough to show his damned face though,”

It was only then that Renly even noted Stannis’ absence. But when he thought about it now, he couldn't remember seeing him anywhere. That was passing odd, he thought. Stannis was probably the only noble who resided within the walls of the Red Keep that wasn't in attendance, for even those with the most tenuous of links to the Hand of the King had come to show their respects in the Grand Sept of Baelor. Stannis meanwhile, had worked alongside lord Arryn almost every day since Robert won his crown and yet Robert was right- whilst he should have been sat in the same row as Renly himself with the rest of the Small Council, he had been nowhere to be seen.

“Where is he?” he asked.

Robert shrugged, motioning for Renly to climb up into the litter with him. “Done us all a favour and fucked off to Dragonstone,” he muttered. “I'm told it was important, but you think he could have stayed for the bloody funeral.”

“You know our brother,” Renly laughed mildly as he climbed up after him, glad to see that Cersei had already gone ahead with the children. “Duty is duty. Something as petty as the funeral of the second most important man in the kingdoms won’t change that.”

Robert gave a grim nod that might have been a laugh had he still not been in grief. “You speak true,” he admitted. He paused, swaying with the motion of the litter. “And Renly, I’m not calling a full small council meeting, but I want a word with you this afternoon. In my audience chamber.”

He didn't speak after that, and curious, Renly passed the rest of the short journey back to the Red Keep lost in imaginings of Robert might have to say to him so shortly after Jon Arryn's death. He was still pondering on it even by the time that he arrived back in his chambers and it took Loras slapping him gently round the face to draw him out of his thoughts, so lost was he in them.

“What did Robert want?” Loras asked as soon as he had Renly's attention.

"He wants to see me this afternoon," Renly quickly replied, eager not to tempt Loras' palm once more. Whilst it hadn't hurt in the slightest, he didn't think he could bear the smug smile that had come to Loras' face as he'd startled for a second time.

“The king wants to see you?”

“Mm-hmm,” Renly smiled, dangerously close to slipping back into his daydreams. To distract himself, he started unfastening his mourning clothes, the relief surely tangible in the air even to Loras as his skin could finally breathe.

“Do you think he’s going to name you Hand of the King?” Loras asked after a few seconds, and Renly laughed to see Loras put into words in one sentence what he had spent a whole half hour thinking on.

“Maybe,” he shrugged. He wouldn’t deny that it had certainly occurred to him, not to Loras at least. “And whilst it would be magnificent to be asked, I shan’t take it if he does.”

“No?” Loras seemed a little surprised, and he turned his attention to his own clothes, pulling off the black tunic he'd chosen for the occasion and rummaging through Renly's drawers until he found what he was evidently looking for- a long thin strip of fabric that might have once been part of a particularly lovely garment. His hair wasn't quite long enough to tie up with it, but he managed to sweep the front bit off his face and Renly was quite distracted watching him, unable not to think that Loras looked no less ridiculous now than the last time he'd tied his curls up.

"Well?" Loras prompted, evidently oblivious to Renly's amusement. "You wouldn't take it then?"

“Gods no,” Renly laughed. “If Robert wants to hand me his own job, then that’s all good and well, but Jon Arryn’s? That man worked harder than a draft horse. You know what they say Loras. What the King dreams, the Hand builds. Well I’d much rather be doing the dreaming.” He smiled, lost in reflection again. “The pin can be pretty though. You know you get to design your own.”

Loras laughed fondly, slipping his hands around Renly's waist. “And what would you have then?”

“Something beautiful,” Renly grinned, waving his hands around for emphasis, “with emeralds and diamonds and a hand that’s made of solid gold.”

“It sounds lovely,” Loras admitted. “Are you certain you don’t want the position?” he teased. “I’d rather fancy sharing the bed of the Hand of the King.”

Renly laughed, unable to not to imagine Loras sleeping beside a half toothless Jon Arryn at those words regardless of Loras' meaning. “You’d never see me if I were the Hand of the King, Loras, let alone get to share a bed with me.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Maybe that’s what killed poor lord Arryn," he mused, "Robert just kept on dreaming, and he had to keep building and building, without a single penny in the coffers to do it with.”

Loras snorted. “More like Robert just kept on eating and Jon Arryn had to keep on shitting.”

Renly laughed. “Agreed,” he chuckled. "You know though, I'm really surprised that Stannis has chosen now to leave the capital. You heard what Robert said about him returning to Dragonstone right?" He continued when Loras nodded. "I'd have thought he'd have been vying for the position himself, doggedly pointing out why he'd be best for it, even whilst knowing that it's a miserable job."

"It would be a miserable job for a miserable man," Loras pointed out snidely, although his hair somewhat dampened the venom.

"Yes," Renly laughed. "But that's beside the point, don't you think it ever so strange that he just disappeared like that?"

Loras shrugged. "Maybe he was having an affair with Jon Arryn," he smirked, "and he's gone back to Dragonstone to grieve."

"Maybe," Renly grinned. "But as entertaining as it is to imagine Stannis roaming the Dragonstone battlements as he pines for his dead lover, somehow I think not."

  
Loras yawned and shrugged again, his hair bouncing slightly in its ribbon. "Yes, but it would certainly explain why we disgust him so much. Willas always says that those who preach against sin are usually the worst sinners themselves."

  
"As sound as your reasoning is Loras," Renly chuckled. "I think I'd better get going." Still smiling, he bent to kiss Loras goodbye, lingering longer than he’d intended to when Loras slipped a hand into his hair and tried to slyly lead him back towards the bed. It was with all the willpower in the world that he gently pushed him away and he would have failed entirely if he wasn't so curious about what his brother wanted to say to him.

“Who are you and what have you done with Renly?” Loras muttered grudgingly, “That always works.”

“Does not,” Renly insisted.

“Don’t lie,” Loras told him, eyebrow raised in a perfect arch. “You’re the Master of Laws. You’re not allowed to lie.”

Renly shrugged, grinning at him. “Well nobody told _me_ that.” His smile widening, he bent his head to whisper into Loras' ear. "And it might have worked," he admitted, "if you didn't have that silly ribbon in your hair." Ignoring Loras' look of indignation and flicking one of the offending curls with a finger, he turned and left.

 

* * *

 

 

Often Robert irritated Renly but never before had Renly found himself completely and utterly _infuriated_ by his eldest brother. Far from feeling flattered, he left Robert’s audience chamber feeling like Robert had trodden all over him with his heavily booted feet. He'd had no qualms about Robert choosing Eddard Stark for his Hand, even though he did have his personal doubts as to how a man who'd never resided in the capital could even begin to deal with the snake pit that was King's Landing. He'd had no qualms either when Robert had told him that he planned to ride forth to Winterfell with no delay to better fetch him. He had minded, however, when upon announcing that he had no intention of honouring young Robert Arryn with what had been his father’s title, Robert had then revealed quite _who_ he intended to grace with the Wardenship.

He'd found it hard to keep his composure then and he'd been more than glad when he could leave his brother's company and stalk back to his chambers. His rooms brought little comfort though, and when he'd found too that Loras had disappeared from them, his ribbon lying discarded across Renly's bed, Renly couldn't help his mood souring further. More than ever, he wished that Loras was around for him to vent his frustration to.

He waited over an hour for him to come back before his patience wore out and he rose grudgingly from where he'd collapsed on his bed to seek him out. Unsurprisingly, he found him in the courtyard, a sword in one hand a shield in the other, and for once Renly wasn’t even in a good enough mood to appreciate the fact that Loras was for the most part unarmoured, wearing little more than boiled leather which clung to him most satisfyingly in the heat.

He was currently seeing off Aron Santagar, the master at arms at the Red Keep and miserably, Renly watched for a little while, trying to muster up some enthusiasm for the fact that Loras was grinding the Dornishman slowly into the dust.

It didn’t take long for Loras to notice that he was being watched, and when he saw Renly he startled slightly, stepping backwards with less of his elegant poise. Watching helplessly as he saw the gaps in Loras’ defence fall wide open, Renly wanted to shout a warning to him. As it was though, Loras’ name was just forming on his lips as Aran Santagar’s sword sliced a thin line through the leather cuirass that covered Loras’ chest. It evidently wasn't a great wound, but Renly found himself sighing to himself all the same. Now he had guilt to add to his list of why he was in a foul mood this afternoon.

Loras looked more surprised than anything, as did the master-of-arms, but then Loras shrugged, saying something to his opponent that Renly couldn’t quite catch before walking over.

"Lord Renly," he greeted, sheathing his sword with a scraping of metal that made Renly want to grind his teeth as if his name was Stannis.

"Ser Loras," he replied wearily.

Loras read his mood as if he were an open book, and frowning, he cocked his head to the side as he approached. “What’s the matter Renly?” he asked softly when he was out of earshot of the other knights in the courtyard, hardly difficult seeing as the song of steel on steel rang out loudly, interrupted only by the dull thuds as swords met shields.

Renly sighed heavily. “Someone’s just sliced through your armour and you’re asking _me_ what the matter is?”

Loras shrugged. “That’s why we wear armour Renly,” He glanced up at the sun, beating down upon them still despite noon being long past. “Otherwise I promise you, we would all be quite naked right now. Or jousting in our small-clothes as your squire tells me you'd much like to do.”

Renly almost found it in him to smile at the image of Loras with nothing but sword and shield. “Yes," he agreed, "but it’s not very thick that armour. You’re not hurt are you?” He longed to reach out and touch Loras' chest, desperate to peel back the leather to check, He knew though that he certainly couldn’t do that until they were safely tucked away in their chambers.

  
Loras shrugged. “If it even pierced the skin it’s very shallow,” he said, “But don't you fret about me. We'll go some place where we can hear ourselves think shall we?” Frowning, he inclined his head towards one of the paths that led through the Red Keep's gardens, motioning for Renly to follow him.

Renly followed gratefully.

“What’s the matter then?” Loras asked as they walked, the shady canopies of the trees above providing a little shelter from the sun. “I’m guessing that Robert didn’t name you then.”

  
“No,” Renly laughed dismally, “Ned stark is going to be Hand. Robert’s going to ride all the way up to Winterfell to fetch him. But I told you, I never wanted to be Hand. I don't give a damn really that Robert would rather have a direwolf as his counsel than one of his brothers.”

“What’s got you in a sulk then?” Loras laughed, sitting himself down on a bench and patting the empty space beside him. It was a pretty spot he'd chosen, shaded by a tree in full blossom, the blooms glorious in soft pinks and deep scarlets, but Renly couldn't find it in him to appreciate the beauty.

“I wanted to be Warden of the East,” Renly admitted, looking down at his hands and feeling all too slighted for his liking.

“Warden of the East?” Loras repeated sceptically, “Surely that sickly boy of Arryn’s now holds it?”

“Apparently not,” Renly said bitterly, snapping a branch off the tree and amusing himself in tearing the petals off the blossom one by one, somehow soothed by the way the silky petals tore beneath his fingers. “And do you know who Robert’s given it to?”

“Who?”

“Jaime bloody Lannister, as if he wasn’t the worst of those blond haired cunts.”

Loras’ eyebrows shot up. “Jaime Lannister?” he echoed. “But _why?_ ”

“As if I know,” Renly laughed angrily, sending petals flying everywhere. “He’s in the bloody Kingsguard for one, they’re not even supposed to hold lands or titles, but even if he wasn’t and if he did succeed to Casterly Rock after the mighty Tywin, do you know where his seat would be?” He didn’t wait for Loras to reply before telling him. “It would be in the west, Loras, that’s where. The clue is in the name- the bloody _Westerlands_.” He ran his hand through his hair ruefully. “And tell me Loras, where is Storm’s End?”

“In the east,” Loras said quietly.

“Exactly,” Renly laughed in exasperation. “In the gods-be-damned east. If you went any further east you might as well give the bloody title to a dolphin because you’d sure as the seven hells need to be able to swim.”

Loras just cocked his head to the side, evidently at a loss to what to do or say. Renly knew Loras wasn’t used to seeing him in such a foul mood and it was on the tip of his tongue to apologise and take back all he'd said when Loras slipped his hand into Renly’s, the empty garden evidently as much reassurance as Loras needed to be a little affectionate.

“I know I jested earlier Renly," he said earnestly, "but really, I don’t care what titles you have or don’t have. I probably wouldn’t care if you were some base born peasant boy really as long as you were still you.”

His voice was soft with fondness and Renly found it soothed his pride a little. “Oh Loras,” he sighed wearily, squeezing Loras' fingers gently and wishing that he could curl up on Loras' lap like a little boy who could pretend to be Warden of the East. “Why are you so good to me?”

Loras laughed at that. “Well you’re mine now,” he smiled almost mischievously. “And we Tyrells take care of our own. Regardless of whether they're wardens or not.”

Renly could well believe it.


	107. Chapter 107

Despite Loras’ assurances to the contrary, the master at arm’s blade _had_ pierced the skin. That much was evident as soon as Loras unfastened the leather cuirass from his around his shoulders to reveal that his white under-shirt underneath was torn and stained a dark red.

"Oh well," Loras shrugged. He didn't seem bothered by the wound in the slightest, and shutting the door to his chambers behind him, he pulled the blood stained under-shirt over his head and tossed it over a chair. There was a thin gash across Loras' chest and he frowned as he inspected it. "It's not deep," he said, "I'll just put some salve on it."

Renly crossed the room to examine it too. Loras was right in that it wasn't particularly deep, but it was still bleeding rather profusely. "I really think you should see a maester," he laughed, picking up the discarded under-shirt and pressing it to the wound to try and stem the bleeding. "You might need it sewn up."

Loras shrugged again. "It'll be fine," He moved to get the salve and Renly tried to walk with him, doing his best to keep the cotton shirt in place. It wasn't easy, and Renly reckoned that they'd have made a very amusing sight to onlookers with him hopping along next to Loras, bent over as he tried not to let the fabric slip.

The salve had a very distinctive smell, and Renly found that it made him think of Maester Cressen, who'd forever been applying the ointment to his grazed knees and elbows. It took him back and Renly sat a few moments lost in fond memories as Loras scooped a little out of the pot and smothered it across the open wound. It must have stung then, and Loras made a very disgruntled face indeed as he wiped his fingers clean on the already ruined under-shirt.

"Done," he said dismissively, standing up and putting the salve back in a drawer. Following him to his feet and standing behind him, Renly wrapped his arms around his bare waist as soon as he was done. Usually, Loras smelt of faintly roses and something else that Renly couldn't put his finger on but that was somehow distinctly him. Now though, when he bent to press a kiss into the crook of Loras' neck, Renly found himself breathing in the scent of leather and blood. His skin too tasted salty under his lips and oddly, Renly found that a little arousing. Breathing in deeper, he kissed his way down to Loras' collarbone, cupping Loras' hips in his palms.

"That's nice," Loras murmured, leaning back against him heavily.

Renly just hummed his assent against the delicate skin of Loras' throat, biting at it very softly until Loras whimpered slightly and pulled away from him towards the bed. Renly took the hint and he was gentle with Loras as he guided him down onto the silk covers, pausing briefly to admire how the fabric felt like water under his hands. Loras lay back under his attentions, and Renly smiled as he saw his eyes flutter closed in the most satisfying of ways.

“So why did Robert even want to see you?” he breathed as Renly moved his attentions downwards across his chest. "If he didn't want to name you to anything?"

"He wants me to help write a letter to Tywin Lannister for him,” Renly breathed against Loras’ skin, loath to remove his lips from it, “Robert plans to send the Arryn boy to Casterly rock.”

“And what’s that got to do with you?” Loras asked, eyes still closed as he arched his back slightly under Renly's touch.

“Nothing,” Renly said, slipping his hands round Loras' waist. “But Robert says that I’d do a good job convincing Tywin to accept a ward where he never has done before.” He laughed, “Which essentially means that Robert is too lazy to do it himself and would rather just sign his name at the bottom and stamp it than lifting a finger. Someone, I suppose, has to do the work which Jon Arryn and Stannis always did.” Trying not to let himself be too enraged by that, he moved a hand down to the laces on Loras' breeches, pulling one of them slowly out to try and tease him.

Loras groaned, with anticipation more than anything. “The Arryn woman isn’t going to like that,” he laughed wryly. “She still suckles that child,”

“Grim isn’t it?” Renly agreed, glancing up as he spoke, distracted for the moment as he recalled the surprising moment Robert had announced that he intended lord Tywin to take a ward, an extremely sickly ward at that. “But it’s all a bit confusing really. Jon apparently was going to send him to Dragonstone of all places, but now Robert thinks Casterly Rock would be better.” Quite honestly, Renly wondered whether both Jon Arryn _and_ Robert were out of their minds. Little Robert Arryn was a weak feeble child who apparently had the most strange convulsions regularly. Personally, Renly didn't think the boy would last a month under either Stannis or Tywin. It would have been better to send him to Riverrun, to his lord grandfather.

“Seems strange,” Loras breathed. “You’d think Robert would want to honour Jon Arryn’s own intentions,” As interested as he seemed though, he didn't seem to care much for the fact that Renly had paused his affections, and roughly, he took Renly's hands and placed them back on the laces of his breeches.

“Indeed,” Renly agreed, smirking as he saw that Loras' breeches had become rather tight. “but mark my words, Cersei has been whispering her poison in his ear. She’s done it well too, for now the Kingslayer is Warden of the East and Tywin is being handed the Arryn boy." Pressing a kiss to the bare skin just above Loras' breeches, he sighed. "She needs to go Loras," he whispered. "The sooner we can get Robert to get rid of her the better.”

“Mmm,” Loras agreed, and now it was clear indeed that he had lost interest in talk of where the Arryn boy might be fostered and why.

“Perhaps, if Margaery could come to court?” Renly mused as he slipped Loras' breeches down from his hips, drawing his velvety cock out from the fabric. Not being able to resist teasing him a bit though, he left it well alone, kissing a path instead down Loras' thighs.

Loras made low noise in the back of his throat. “Perhaps,” he whispered breathlessly. “I should like that, but my father wouldn’t be happy.”

“But you could write, and ask. No harm in asking.”

“Mm,” Loras agreed, “If you like.” He shifted underneath Renly and gave his head a gentle push downwards. “Now hush, all this talk of my father and sister doesn’t agree with me when your lips are so close to my cock.”

Renly just laughed, sitting up just to irritate him. “What would agree with you then Loras?” he asked, folding his arms in what he hoped would be the most aggravating of ways.

Loras closed his eyes and pushed Renly’s head down towards his cock once more, a little more forcefully this time. “If you’re generous,” he laughed, “then later I might let you fuck me until you’re not so frustrated about Ser Jaime Lannister the well deserved Warden of the East.”

“That might take a long time,” Renly chuckled. “You might not be able to cope.”

“Want to bet?” Loras challenged, a glint coming into his eyes.

Renly just grinned at him.

 

* * *

 

 

Renly fucked him several times that evening and as Loras had promised, he felt the frustration seep out of him. He felt a little guilty for taking his anger out on Loras and yet Loras didn't seem to care that Renly was being more than a little rough with him. He pushed back against him even, and Renly knew that Loras probably rather enjoyed the fact that Renly wasn't treating him like he were made of glass. It was late by the time Renly finished with him and it was sticky and satisfied that they went to bed, thoughts of wardenships and of Cersei's meddling far from Renly's mind.

He must have worn Loras out more than he'd anticipated though, Renly thought when he woke in the morning. For once, Loras was still asleep next to him, sprawled very inelegantly across the bed and only half covered by the bedclothes. It was quite amusing to see him like that and Renly would liked not to wake him. As it was though, Renly had a whole list of things he needed to be getting on with this morning and Renly thought Loras would be most unimpressed if he walked out on him without a word.

It took a good few nudges to wake him.

"Mm?" he yawned as he sat up, his hair a little frizzy from where it had had Renly's hands in it all of last night. He moved a little stiffly and Renly wondered whether he was paying the price now for how rough Renly had been with him last night.

"Are you all right?" Renly asked, pressing a kiss into the mass of soft curls.

"Why wouldn't I be?" was Loras' response, and yawning once more, he stretched his arms behind his head, his joints making a rather unpleasant clicking noise.

Renly rolled his eyes and set himself to collecting his clothes off of Loras' floor. "What shall you be occupying yourself with today then?" Renly asked him as he pulled his crumpled doublet over his head. He would just have to hope that he didn't come across too many people on the way back to his chambers.

"The usual," Loras told him simply. He didn't bother getting up to say goodbye; he merely tilted his face up towards him, evidently inviting Renly to come to him. It was an invitation that Renly took, and bending, he gave Loras a kiss goodbye, rolling his eyes slightly at how lazy Loras was being today.

"I'll see you later then," Renly smiled at him, ruffling Loras' hair a little seeing as he was at the perfect height to do so before making his way out of the door.

 

* * *

 

 

Renly finished the letter to Tywin earlier than he'd anticipated and it was gladly that he gave it to Alyn to be passed on. Littlefinger would see it next, and then Varys, before finally Robert himself. Hopefully by that point it would be polished to perfection, all possible tact and flattery used and perfectly ready to be written up on the most expensive parchment by Robert's most elegant scribe. Personally, Renly thought all this was rather unnecessary. His own version already excelled in both tact and flattery, and Renly really rather doubted that the scribe's hand would be any more elegant than his own.

He didn't complain though, for this way it wouldn't be himself who took all of the blame if Tywin refused, and once Alyn had scurried off with it, he went off in search of Loras. He expected without a doubt to find him in the training yard, but to his surprise, he wasn't anywhere in sight. He wasn't sparring with the Kingsguard, nor was he with the master at arms again. He wasn't even with the knights from the Reach who were practising jousting.

A little confused, Renly headed back inside, with the thought that perhaps Loras was taking a very early lunch. Expecting very little, he knocked on the doors to Loras' chambers, surprised when little Tommas Fossoway opened it.

"Lord Renly," he said with a little bob.

Renly smiled at him, thinking it a pity that the Fossoway boy seemed slow to grow. It must be hard, he thought, to be a small man, one that even women occasionally had to look down at, and he imagined that if Loras' squire didn't grow soon, that was definitely what he was in danger of becoming.

"Is Ser Loras in?" he asked politely.

"Yes, my lord," Tommas said, "but he's indisposed at the moment I'm afraid."

"Indisposed?" Renly chuckled. "Well what is he indisposed _with_?"

"Well he's asleep my lord," Tommas admitted.

Renly had to laugh at that. Loras had dismissed the notion that he was worn out this morning with more than a little disdain, and yet hear he was, still in bed at midday. "Well I need to see him," he told Tommas, "He won't mind me intruding I dare say."

"He won't?" Tommas said doubtfully. As his squire, he was no doubt all too familiar with his master's temper.

"Well Ser Loras was my squire once if you remember," Renly laughed, "I think I've seen him asleep too many times to count. Once more shan't matter."

"I guess," Tommas agreed, not looking entirely convinced.

The boy's hesitance was a little irritating but Renly supposed he should be glad really that Loras' squire didn't seem immediately ready to let him into the chambers where his master was sleeping. Sad as it was, Renly imagined that Tommas Fossoway might be one of the only people left in King's Landing now who didn't at least suspect that he and Loras shared bed chambers.

"Wake him up and ask him then," Renly laughed. 

Tommas shifted from one foot to the other awkwardly. "I've been told not to my lord," he said quietly. " _Don't be waking me up_ , Ser Loras said. It was this very morning my lord, and I really don't want to be disobeying his orders. He wouldn't like that at all."

Renly resisted the urge to sigh. "Let me wake him up then, and then you shan't be disobeying your orders shall you?" He smiled, wishing the boy would be won over by him more quickly. "Did Loras specifically tell you not to let anybody in whilst he was sleeping?"

"Well no, my lord," Tommas admitted hesitantly. "Not _specifically_."

"Then you shan't be disobeying your orders then shall you?" Renly grinned.

"I suppose not," the boy said quietly. Very doubtfully, he stepped back from the door to let Renly pass, and whilst he evidently hadn't known that Loras and he were on rather intimate terms, he evidently knew enough to know that he'd do better to leave Loras and his guests in peace, for he scampered quickly away.

The drapes were still drawn in Loras' room and he was indeed still asleep, laid on his side with the covers pulled up around him. He had been naked when Renly had left him this morning, but now he'd evidently put some clothes on, the white sleeve of his nightshirt peeking out from underneath the bedclothes.

Smiling, Renly perched down on the edge beside him and gently touched his shoulder.

Loras groaned as he woke. "I thought I told you not to wake me?" he grumbled.

"Did you?" Renly laughed. He enjoyed it when Loras' eyes snapped open at the sound of his voice.

"Oh it's you," he yawned, "I thought you were Tommas."

Renly grinned down at him. "Feel free to scold me too though," He laughed and rolled Loras further across the bed to make room for him. Still soft from sleep, it was an easy enough task, though Renly didn't miss how Loras winced slightly as he was moved. "Are you sore?" Renly asked, patting his am gently as he kicked his boots off to sit down properly on the bed and wondering if the soreness was his doing or caused by the small gash in his chest.

“No,” Loras said, as if the idea that he might be sore was ridiculous. “I am resting.”

“Resting?” Renly queried, smiling innocently at him.

“Yes, _resting_.” Loras glared at him. “Is that allowed?”

“Of course it’s allowed,” Renly grinned, reaching down to stroke his hair. “But are you sure I didn’t make you sore?”

“Of course I’m sure,” Loras hissed, “If you wanted, you could fuck me again right now. Twice.”

“Go on then,” Renly smiled, giving Loras’ arse a small slap through the bedclothes and calling his bluff. “Up for me then,”

“Well not _right now_ ,” Loras muttered.

“Why not?” Renly grinned. “Because you’re resting?”

“Because I’m resting,” Loras confirmed.

Ignoring his words, Renly pushed back the bedclothes and set to soothing him as if he were sore, running his hands gently over Loras' back and shoulders, rubbing circles across his stomach. To his surprise, Loras didn't protest. He merely closed his eyes as if he were quite enjoying the attention. It was only when Renly lifted the hem of his nightshirt to inspect his wound that he put up a fuss, hissing slightly like an angry cat. Renly wasn't deterred though and he ran his finger softly over where the master at arms' blade had pierced him, pleased to see that it had scabbed over nicely already. It evidently hadn't needed to be sewn up.

“So if you’re not sore," Renly asked, "why aren’t you in the training yard?” Indeed, whilst he saw through Loras' lies perfectly well, he was surprised regardless that Loras wasn't in the training yard. Considering that he'd been insistent on practising even when he'd had several barely healed ribs, Renly was amazed to see him giving it a miss today.

“What’s the point?” Loras said wearily. “I’m finished."

“Finished?” Renly queried, cocking his head and continuing tracing his soothing circles against Loras' skin.

“Yes finished. What's the point going to the training yard anymore?”

Renly looked down at him warily. He’d never seen Loras in such a mood or voicing such thoughts. It was a little disconcerting. “What do you mean?” he asked.

“Well what is there left to me?” Loras asked, sitting up slightly and resting his head on Renly's lap. “I’ve won the greatest thing that can be won. I’ve unhorsed all seven of the Kingsguard. I’m five and ten and I’ve already achieved everything I wanted to achieve.”

Renly sighed, biting back a smile as he ran his fingers through Loras' hair. “It’s difficult is it? Being so brilliant so young?”

Loras didn’t pick up on the sarcasm and he nodded. “It is Renly,” he said pitifully. “I’m done.”

“No you’re not,” Renly sighed. “Come here.” Sliding his hands under Loras' arms, he heaved him up so that he could lean properly against him. “You’ve many things left to do.”

“Like what?” Loras lamented, running a hand wearily through his hair. “I’ve no desire to join the Kingsguard, and even if I did, it seems so easy now. All I’d have to do is hang around and wait for one of them to die. Robert would jump at the chance to have me as one of his White Cloaks, and my page in the White Book would be the longest of them all.”

“Well then,” Renly laughed, thinking on his feet to try and come up with something that Loras hadn't yet achieved that he might like to. “I know," he said. "You’ve never won a melee.”

Loras instantly cheered up at that. “I haven’t have I?" he said, and suddenly, the cheerfulness was gone as quickly as it had come, replaced with confusion. "Why haven't I won a melee?" Loras asked irritably. "I'm easily good enough to."

“I've no idea why,” Renly grinned. “And I bet even I could win a melee if I put my mind to it. It’s as easy as pie really to win a melee and it astounds me that you haven’t yet.” This wasn't strictly true, but Renly thought it best to pretend that it was.

“True,” Loras mused, gritting his teeth with determination. He hopped off of Renly’s lap as if he hadn't spend the morning lounging in bed, and Renly was pleased to see that there was a new found energy in his step, as if he were already imagining himself winning the melee. Indeed, he almost bounced as he dressed, hastily pulling his nightshirt off to replace it with thin cottons.

“Where are you off to?” Renly laughed as he watched him.

“To the training yard," Loras said simply.

Renly just rolled his eyes in pleased exasperation.


	108. Chapter 108

To everybody's surprise, Tywin Lannister _did_ agree to foster the sickly Arryn boy, his reply arriving promptly in what Varys said was Tywin's own hand.

It was to be the his first ward and Renly was a little sceptical about his motives for it. The importance of fostering could not be denied by anybody, Renly thought. Many alliances had their roots in who had been fostered where, and Renly sincerely wondered whether the Mad King might still have sat the throne had Jon Arryn not agreed to take Eddard Stark and Robert as his wards. Likewise, where there had been years of bad blood between the Stormlands and the Reach, Renly imagined that they'd had their last quarrel for a long time now, purely because he'd agreed to have Loras at Storm's End. It was a powerful bond that fostering created between two families, and Renly wondered whether at some point soon, somebody needed to force the Reach and Dorne to exchange a ward or two. Renly wouldn't be too surprised even if that turned out to be one of Willas' first actions as Lord of Highgarden and he smiled as he thought of how disgusted Loras would be.

On the other hand, though, there was definitely a darker side to fostering. The sad truth of it, Renly thought, was that wards made good bartering tools. Balon Greyjoy's only living son was at Winterfell not because Robert wished particularly to heal the rift between the Iron Islanders and the realm, but because the boy could be used as leverage if Balon saw fit to revolt once more. Likewise, Renly imagined that Lysa Arryn would not speak a bad word against Tywin whilst her precious son was buried away inside Casterly Rock, and it was this fact that worried Renly. Tywin already had Robert in his pocket, and now he would have Lysa and the Vale too.

Renly lay awake the whole night in a mood about it, listening to the soft sound of Loras' breathing next to him and wishing that his presence would soothe his ill temper. In his mind, he called the Lannisters every name he could think of, and yet in the end, it seemed that he needn't have worried. It was something that Renly had never thought he'd say, but it appeared he had under-estimated the force that was Lysa Tully.

"I have just gained a new found respect for lady Arryn,” Renly announced as he returned to Loras after an early small council meeting, still chuckling to himself and with a new spring in his step.

“What’s she done now?” Loras asked. He was sat at Renly's writing table bent over something and he didn't bother glancing up.

“Well,” Renly grinned. “Upon hearing that her precious son was going to be sent to Tywin Lannister.... she fled, Loras." He laughed gleefully as he relived how baffled Robert had been over it all. "She actually _fled_ , Loras, yesterday, in the dead of the night . Talk about a slap in Tywin Lannister's smug golden face!” He was very happy with how the situation had turned out, and yet he still had the niggling regret that he had not been there to witness the Queen's face as she was told about how Lysa had snubbed her father.

Loras deigned to glance up. "It seems disappearing in the dead of night is fashionable right now," he said dryly. "As amusing as that is though, it must be rather uncomfortable for your brother, I imagine?”

“Oh yes,” Renly laughed, rubbing his hands together as he grinned. “But if it puts a rift between him and Tywin, then it’s fine by me.” He smiled, pacing a little in his excitement. “I dare say most mothers would fret if their children were sent anywhere near that man. You only have to look at the Queen, the Kingslayer and the Imp to see how well Tywin raises children.”

“Mmm,” Loras agreed, going back to whatever he was doing. “My mother wouldn’t have been too happy to let me go to Casterly Rock either, I imagine.”

“No?” Renly laughed, pleased that Loras' mother had evidently not had the same objections to him. “Were other options ever even discussed for you? Other than me I mean?”

Loras nodded, his eyes still trained on the parchments in front of him. “Many. The Arbour was talked about, Hightower, Horn Hill too, though thankfully that one fell through rather quickly. I don’t think I’d have liked to squire for lord Randyll. He has a worse reputation than Tywin and I'd have had to practise with Piggy out of courtesy.”

“Well I’m glad you came to me,” Renly agreed with a grin. "I dare say lord Tarly wouldn't have fucked you so nicely either!"

Loras gave a rather absent laugh, and curious as to what was keeping him from having Loras' full attention- a rather unusual event in itself, Renly sat down beside him. “What are you looking at?” he asked as he peered round Loras' elbow, surprised to see what looked like coloured sketches laid out across the table. “You haven’t taken up drawing have you?”

“No,” Loras said abruptly, and to Renly's bemusement, he hastily hid what he was poring over, bringing the sheets of parchment to his chest and folding his arms over them.

Renly raised an eyebrow. “What is it that I’m not allowed to see?” he asked suspiciously. Grinning, he reached out to unfold Loras' arms one by one, pleased to see that he still had the upper hand in regards to pure strength. It was easy to enough to ply Loras' arms away from the parchment but as soon as Renly got his hands on whatever Loras was hiding, it was snatched out of his grasp once more. Loras, it seemed, had not lost that speed and agility that left him near unbeatable on the field.

"Leave it be," Loras snapped, glaring at him though narrowed eyes. He clearly wasn't truly angry though and Renly smiled innocently at him as if he'd done nothing wrong. Indeed, Loras softened quickly and he consented to merely roll his eyes at Renly as Renly reached out to touch a lock of his hair to make amends. He didn't, however, loosen his grip on the pieces of parchment clutched to his chest.

"Please tell me what it is," Renly laughed, winding a few strands of Loras' hair around his finger fondly.

"It’s the designs for my new armour,” Loras told him reluctantly. “Because surely Robert will throw a tourney for his new Hand.”

“I’m sure he will,” Renly agreed. “But why am I not allowed to see these designs for this new armour of yours?” Usually, Loras hid nothing from him. It was quite odd that he was doing so now, and Renly couldn't help but feel a little put out about it.

“It’s a secret,” Loras told him smugly.

“That’s mean,” Renly laughed, “I like looking at beautiful armour. You know that.”

“Then go get your own beautiful armour to look at then,” Loras smirked. "You said you were going to. It might even be half as beautiful as mine if you put your mind to it,"

Renly rolled his eyes. “I shall then.” Renly grinned. “I shall go as soon as Robert has started north and it shall be twice as beautiful as yours.”

 

* * *

 

 

The royal party left with much fanfare and it was almost enough to convince Renly he should have chosen to go. The royal wheelhouse was to be taken for the occasion and Renly had forgotten how truly magnificent it was. Pulled by no less than forty draft horses whose bay coats had been brushed until they shimmered in the sunlight, the carriage dwarfed even the surrounding trees, casting a shadow that seemed to stretch on forever in the morning light. One hundred knights lined up in its wake, golden banners streaming behind them in the wind, the crowned Baratheon stag fluttering on the breeze.

Renly and Loras watched a little longingly out of the window of Renly's chambers, trying to name the small figures down below as the party moved off, half obscured as they were by the glittering gold banners. It felt odd as he watched them file out of the gates, and Renly almost felt a little proud as he saw Robert lead the procession on his huge destrier. Fat as he was, he headed the column with a king's dignity, and that was admirable, Renly thought, even if he knew that his brother would no doubt be climbing up into the wheelhouse to drink as soon as the crowds of King's Landing were behind them.

“How long shall they be gone?” Loras asked, leaning further out of the window as the last of the baggage train disappeared through the gates.

Renly shrugged. “Half a year maybe. Probably more if we’re lucky,”

“ _Half a year?_ ” Loras echoed in disbelief. “Surely not?”

“Yes,” Renly laughed. “It’s a long way to Winterfell, Loras, and did you see that wheelhouse? Whereas we easily do a good fifty miles a day on horseback, they’ll be lucky if they do fifteen.” He smiled wryly. “And Robert will stop often to hunt and whore, I imagine. It shall be a _very_ long journey Loras,”

Loras nodded, seemingly lost in imaginings of the road to Winterfell.

“But we shall have the whole of the Red Keep to ourselves,” Renly smiled, spinning Loras around and pulling him off the windowsill into his arms. “And think, even snake pits can be pleasant when all the snakes have slithered north.”

Loras grinned at him and there was so much promise in it that Renly couldn't help but grin back.

 

* * *

 

King's Landing was odd without the king and yet Renly relished every moment of it. The empty corridors were his to lord over as he pleased, and Renly thought that he'd fucked Loras in at least half of them by the time that the first fortnight was out. Without anyone to scrutinise him too, he gave dinners as often as he liked- something for which his men were very grateful seeing as far more women had stayed behind than men. He used whichever rooms he pleased for his feasts, using the Queen's Ballroom one day, and perhaps the Great Hall the next. And with Jon Arryn dead and Stannis gone, only four members of the Small Council remained, and Renly delighted in the fact that more often than not, it was him that people approached for counsel. He was the only one of royal blood left in the capital and it showed. Renly found himself treated like a king in Robert's absence and he basked in every moment of it.

Whilst Renly did what he pleased though, the matter of having new armour forged for him completely slipped his mind, until one evening, Loras came into his chambers whilst Renly was bathing, an uncharacteristically large grin upon his face.

"What has made you so cheerful?" Renly laughed. Loras' smile was so wide that it was practically suspicious and he splashed a little water his way to see if that could dampen his spirits.

It didn't, and Loras merely perched on the edge of the tub, flicking a little water at Renly in retaliation. "You shall never guess what I just saw," he grinned.

“What did you see?” Renly asked, playing along as if Loras were some child that needed humouring.

" _Well,_ ” Loras smirked, as if knowledge made him powerful. "I was just in the Street of Steel, picking up the armour that you're still not allowed to see. And there was a boy in the back, you know, the ordinary dirty sort of boy that works the forges that I never usually take any notice of. This one though-"

Renly cut him off, laughing. “-Have you fallen head over heels for someone else?” he teased as perused the soaps. “Shall they be writing songs about the Knight of Flowers and the dirty peasant boy he took for his lover?”

“No,” Loras said disdainfully, shaking his head vehemently as if Renly frustrated him. “It’s just that, well, this boy looked so much like _you_. And I’m not exaggerating here, Renly. I had to look twice. _Me_ , who sees you every day, who knows you better than anyone. I actually had to look twice.”

Renly grinned, not particularly surprised. “I suppose you must have come across one of my brother’s bastards then,” he chuckled. “There’s a fair few running around, thousands even if you believe the songs that the smallfolk sing. I would wager that the Eyerie is _crawling_ with poorer copies of me.”

Loras laughed, leaning over to brush Renly's wet hair out of his eyes with more than a little affection. “I assumed as much, but it was strange all the same, Renly. I kid you not- if you dressed that boy up in decent clothes, he could probably swan into Storm’s End and sit down in your audience chamber without anyone even batting an eyelid.”

Renly grinned at him, leaning back lazily against the edge of the tub. “I better warn Penrose then,” he chuckled, “Tell him that he ought to be watching out for imposters.”

“You laugh but it could have almost been you, apart from the clothes." Loras wrinkled his nose as if he were a little disgusted, “and the smell too probably. I didn't get close enough to find out, but he looked like he smelt vile. Even more vile than the rest of King's Landing even.”

Renly yawned, choosing a soap that smelt of pears to lather into his hair. “So how does it suit me then? Rags and dirt?”

“Rather ill,” Loras told him without any hesitation, dragging his hands through the soapy water and creating patterns in the water. He sighed heavily. “Do you ever find it odd how much you and Robert evidently looked alike?"

Renly shrugged, rinsing his hair and trying to get all the soap out. "Not particularly," he said. He smiled up at Loras through the curtain his wet hair had formed over his eyes. "But think Loras, of the fun you could have! You could line us all up and pick your favourite. Or you could have one for each day of the week even!"

Loras just raised an unimpressed eyebrow and without further warning that that, placed his hands firmly on each of Renly's shoulders and pushed him down under the water. He didn't keep him under there long, but just long enough for Renly to feel his disdain. "That's what you get for being silly," he laughed despairingly as he let Renly bob back up to the surface. "But really, no brothers should look as alike as you do.”

Renly grinned. Being dunked under the water had been a little unpleasant but he was none the worse for wear for it. “Perhaps I’m not his brother,” he teased. “Robert was fourteen when I was born, perhaps I was his first bastard.”

Loras rolled his eyes, folding his arms over his chest in exasperation. “Did someone _instruct_ you on how to never to answer questions seriously Renly? Because you certainly do a good job at it.”

Renly just shrugged infuriatingly at him. "Most certainly, Loras. I had lessons everyday in it," he said sincerely, keeping as straight a face as he could manage, all too aware that he was probably going to be pushed under the water again for that.

 

* * *

 

 

Loras' little encounter at the armoury was the reminder Renly had needed, and the very next day he rode out of the keep with his guard to the forge that Loras had recommended to him. It wasn't hard to find in the slightest. It stood at the top of the Street of Steel, and as Loras had promised him it would be, it was by far the grandest building for a mile. It towered over the smiths that stood either side and if that wasn't enough, two stone knights in brilliantly red armour guarded the opulent double doors that led inside.

Inside was dark and dust, the smell of metal and leather heavy in the air. Suits of armour seemed to stand everywhere and Renly had the odd feeling that he was being watched even though each and every one of them was empty. Tobho Mott, whoever he was, wasn't anywhere to be seen, and so Renly amused himself by perusing the sets of armour in the hope that inspiration might come to him whilst Alyn ventured further into the forge in search of its owner. He wasn't very successful, the clang of hammers on metal from the forge in the back drowning out Alyn's already rather timid calls.

Eventually, Ser Guyard took over, and to nobody's surprise, what they assumed to be Tobho Mott stepped out from amongst the clouds of dust almost immediately. It was no wonder, Renly thought. He reckoned that a war could be going on and he'd still be able to hear Ser Guyard talking.

The man's hair was thinning and Renly was presented with his bald head as he bobbed slightly in greeting. His eyes widened ever so slightly when he regarded Renly a little more closely, and Renly wondered if it were because he was honoured to be sought out by royalty or because he, like Loras, was taken aback by how similar he looked to the peasant boy he had working in the forge.

"Lord Renly," he bowed. He paused a little awkwardly as he surveyed Renly's companions. "Do you accompany lord Stannis my lord?"

"No," Renly laughed a little indignantly. He was a little confused as to why the man would get such a ridiculous notion. "Why, does my brother too honour you with his custom?"

"Our paths have crossed my lord," Tobho Mott smiled, seemingly glad for the news that Renly had come without the notoriously miserably Master of Ships. "But it would be a far greater honour if you were to grace us with your custom, my lord."

Renly smiled widely. "We think alike it seems. You work has been recommended to me."

That seemed to pleased the smith greatly and his face flushed with pleasure. "I assure you my lord," he said proudly. "I am the best smith you shall find in King's Landing. The best even this side of the Narrow Sea.

"Good," Renly laughed. "I need a suit of armour. A magnificent suit of armour, more magnificent even than whatever the Knight of Flowers has recently commissioned from you. He's been bragging throughout the Red Keep about it and I shall not see myself outdone."

"More magnificent?" the smith chuckled and Renly wondered dismally just how grand the armour was that Loras now had to wear to the next tourney. "Well do you have anything particular in mind my lord?"

"Inspire me," Renly laughed.

And Tobho Mott did. Renly was shown all sorts of things. Handful of jewels were brought out for him to view, the rubies and emeralds and sapphires glittering against Renly's skin as the smith poured them into his palms and told him how he might set them into metal. Magnificent helms were presented to him, many shaped like an animal's head, and Renly marvelled as Mott showed him first a steel lion and then a tiger, both so lifelike that Renly could have believed that they were real creatures turned to steel by the gods.

Renly liked the animal helms very much but it was when Mott showed him the coloured steel that he'd apparently learnt to forge in the distant lands of Qohor that Renly fell head over heels in love. He'd never seen anything like it- the colour had not been laid on top of the steel but instead seemed to have been worked into the very metal itself. He stared as Tobho Mott demonstrated to him that even when the surface was scraped off with a hot tool, the colour still remained underneath.

"Is this what the Knight of Flowers had?" he asked, hoping to the gods that it wasn't so as he picked up a piece of blue steel and turned it in his hands.

"No, my lord," Mott smiled.

"Then I want it," Renly laughed gleefully. Nothing, he thought, could be more spectacular than this, and he reckoned that Loras must have definitely missed a trick when commissioning his own suit.

"What colour my lord?" Tobho Mott asked equally as gleefully. No doubt, this calibre of armour was very expensive.

Renly looked duly down at the samples scattered about the table. Each colour was glorious. There was a deep red that reminded Renly of a setting sun, and a yellow that spoke to him of the dawn. The blue too was dazzling, and Renly thought it would bring out his Baratheon colouring nicely. It was the green though that drew Renly's eyes. It was simply glorious, deeper than the lush green woods of the Stormlands and Renly just had to have it.

"I'll have the green," Renly smiled. He thought that a perfect choice and yet when he tried to envision what the finished suit might look like he found that there seemed to be something missing, his mind flicking back longingly to the animal helms that lay discarded. "And I want antlers too. In solid gold."

That, he thought, sealed it for him. This time, he was certain to outdo Loras.


	109. Chapter 109

With Robert and Cersei headed north, Renly was gladder for Loras' company than he ever had been. Most days without fail, he would seek Loras out in the training yard as soon as he'd finished the little official business that still remained in King's Landing and today was no different. He'd spent the morning with Littlefinger and the Spider, and dragging Loras away from his sword practice had never seemed more appealing. 

As was to expected now, the usually full courtyard was almost empty and Renly spotted his squire before he spotted Loras, facing a boy that Renly recognised to be Ser Guyard’s squire. Evidently it was the young knight from Crow’s Nest’s turn to concern himself with Alyn today and indeed, Ser Guyard stood a little off to the side, watching over the pair with an eye that was almost as critical as Loras’. His face broke into a smile as soon as he saw Renly though, and he bounced over like an over-grown puppy that was eager to greet its master.

"Lord Renly," he beamed. 

Renly smiled at the captain of his guard. “How do the boys fare?” he asked with a casual wave over in the squires’ direction. 

“Very well, my lord,” Ser Guyard told him proudly. “I am teaching them everything that I know.”

“Good,” Renly smiled. He watched for a while, and indeed his squire seemed to have improved. Whether that was Ser Guyard’s doing or Loras’, he couldn’t say. He didn’t watch long though, and smiling, he let his eyes drift across the courtyard to Loras. His first squire was also currently in combat and whilst his helm made it impossible to admire his beauty, Renly consented to merely admire the way he seemed to move effortlessly instead. He fought like most other people danced.

Loras pulled off his helm when his opponent yielded and looked around for his squire. He was visibly annoyed when his squire was nowhere to be seen. He seemed to know exactly where to find him, though, and marching over to the other side of the courtyard, he had Tommas Fossoway all but running away from a girl in servant’s drab that he’d evidently been talking to.

Clearly disgruntled, Loras gave him his helm and Tommas began disamouring him with fingers that Renly could see shaking from a distance. It was only then that Loras seemed to spot Renly and after waving Tommas off irritably with his armour, he strolled over.

“Ser Guyard,” Loras said curtly, and the two knights forced themselves to smile at each other. Ser Guyard's attempt was significantly better than Loras' but Renly didn’t bother trying to make Loras make more of an effort. He didn't even bother trying to have a conversation with both of them. He merely took his leave politely of Ser Guyard and followed Loras back over to the other side of the courtyard where they could talk freely.

“What was all that about?” Renly asked curiously, gesturing over to where Loras’ squire was still fumbling with Loras’ armour.

Loras sighed, rolling his eyes. “My squire is madly in love. With a pantry girl who works in the kitchens.” he explained. He didn’t sound at all impressed.

Renly laughed, sitting down on one of the many benches and bidding Loras join him. “And why so dismissive Loras?” He grinned. “Maybe he _is_ madly in love with this girl. You weren't so old yourself when you first declared such sentiments after all.”

Loras raised an eyebrow. “Yes, but last month it was Princess Myrcella even though she’s not yet eight and he’s only ever seen her from afar, and the week before that it was the homely girl who sweeps the yard here, and the week before that it was some poxy chambermaid who had the misfortune to blush at him once.” He sighed deeply, turning too to watch his squire. “If that’s not poor taste, I don’t know what is.”

Renly laughed, amused at Loras' inability to understand that, unlike him, most young men were very fickle in their affections. They flitted from one girl to the next as Loras might flit between sets of armour. “So what did you tell him?” he asked.

“Oh the usual," Loras told him. "How to court her and that sort of thing.”

Renly raised an eyebrow. “And what would you know about courting young ladies?” He kept his voice soft, the metal ringing out across the yard concealing his words well enough. The nearest Renly had ever seen Loras get to courting a lady was when he handed out his now famous roses at tourneys. 

“Everything,” Loras told him though simply. “I could persuade a woman into bed with my eyes closed and one hand tied behind my back.”

Renly rolled his eyes. “So why don’t you then," he retorted with a grin, Loras' arrogance no real surprise to him. 

Loras laughed under his breath and placed a brief surreptitious hand on Renly's thigh. “Because I could get you into bed with my eyes closed and _both_ my hands tied behind my back,”

Renly chuckled at the thought. “Well that’s a thought worth entertaining,” he smiled, shrugging Loras' hand off his thigh regardless. The courtyard was rather empty but it wasn't quite _that_ empty.

Loras rolled his eyes and smirked. It was half a promise and Renly found his pulse beginning to race despite the people surrounding him.

“So,” He laughed, doing his best to push his arousal to one side for now was neither the time nor the place. “Did you give the same encouragement when it was my niece that your squire fancied himself in love with?” Somehow, Renly imagined that Loras' squire would have more luck with the plain servant girls than he would do with Robert's only princess.

“Definitely not.” Loras’ eyes shone with amusement. “I told him that the Queen would have him gelded before the day was out if he so much as _looked_ at the princess in the wrong way.”

Renly laughed. “Oh you are cruel aren’t you Loras?”

Loras shrugged. “I try,"  
  


* * *

 

 

“Now,” Renly laughed, smiling down at Loras with a sly grin. “As Master of Laws, I did consider going down to the gaols and finding some proper chains to tie your hands behind your back with, and yet time was short.” He held up a couple of strips of silk. “These will have to do.”

Loras glared up at him from where he was sat on the bed. “I still can’t believe you’re actually making me go through with this,” he muttered, "For someone who is very accustomed to jokes and japes, you seem to be having a bloody hard time telling when I am being serious or not."

Renly grinned. "It's your choice Loras, and I admit, I thought you were being a little ambitious. If you don't think you can live up to your words then..."

Loras scowled at him and thrust his hands behind his back, letting Renly fasten them there, tying the silk in a tight knot. 

“You could get me into bed with your eyes closed and both hands tied behind your back. Isn’t that what you said?” Renly laughed. “Now, here’s the thing Loras. I don’t trust you to keep your eyes closed.” He held up the other length of silk. “So if you'll please turn around for me,”

Loras raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

“Why, of course,” Renly smiled widely as he covered Loras’ eyes with the fabric and tied it tightly. Once that was done, he spun Loras round a couple of times and walked away whilst Loras was still evidently dizzy. “Come on then," he laughed, "seduce me into bed won't you?" 

Smiling, Renly sat himself down in one of the chairs at his table. He had several letters to write and this seemed the perfect opportunity. He'd only managed to choose himself a piece of parchment and a fresh quill though before he couldn’t help sitting back to watch Loras in his attempts. He’d obviously spun Loras a little harder than he’d meant to, for Loras was still a little wobbly on his feet. He evidently didn’t have any clue as to which direction was which and Renly had to stop himself from laughing out loud as Loras bumped into the wall. He didn’t appear to have hurt himself, in fact the only injured thing about him was most certainly his pride, and yet Loras cursed under his breath as if he’d broken several bones.

His encounter with the wall seemed to disorientate him further and he headed back in the direction he’d already come, rather confidently, Renly thought, for someone who didn’t even have the use of their hands to feel ahead with. And with Loras wandering around in circles, Renly thought he might as well get on with some work. He’d written two letters by the time that Loras found his way to the bed, clambering onto it awkwardly and sitting cross-legged when he discovered Renly wasn’t there.

“This isn’t fair,” he grumbled.

“But you said you’d seduce me into bed,” Renly grinned from his vantage spot, dipping his quill into the ink pot. “That would be rather easy if I were already _in_ bed.”

“But you’re not allowed to hide from me,” Loras protested, shuffling across the bedclothes in his laughable attempts to get back onto his feet.

Renly glanced up from his letter. “Am I not?”

“No.” Loras said firmly. Finally, he rolled off the bed and wandered vaguely in the direction of Renly’s voice. “Why do your chambers have to be so large anyway?” The sound of Renly's voice though seemed to aid him greatly, and whilst Renly was tempted to get up and skirt round him, he decided to stay put and give Loras a fighting chance.

He had to laugh when Loras eventually found him, bumping into his chair with all the elegance of a plodding shire horse. “Come here,” he laughed, putting his hands on Loras’ waist and guiding him round. “I’ll help you a little.” Smiling, he settled Loras on his lap, chuckling as Loras leant precariously towards him to try and kiss him. It was only then perhaps that Renly realised quite how difficult it was for Loras, robbed of both his sight and his hands.

“That’s my cheek,” Renly laughed.

“-and that was my ear,”

“...forehead....”

“-sort of my mouth?”

Quite honestly, Renly could do nothing but laugh as Loras attempted to kiss him. It was evidently harder than it looked when you couldn’t see and you had no hands to guide you but Loras kept at it with dogged persistence, undeterred by his mounting failures. Indeed, when Loras did find his mouth, he didn’t pull back, probably because he knew that if he did then he would have to start all over. It was odd, Renly found, Loras kissing him with no use of his hands. He was so used to Loras having his hands in his hair or cupped around the back of his neck that it felt quite strange indeed.

It must have felt strange for Loras too, as soon, he clambered off his lap, and biting the collar of Renly’s doublet, tried to tug him up. It was a most amusing sight and Renly laughed as he looked down at him. It was hardly the most seductive he'd seen Loras look, and yet Renly really had to admire his effort. Where most men would give up, Loras just kept on going. 

“Come on then,” he chuckled against Loras’ ear. “I’ll let you win this round,” Standing up, he went to follow Loras, turning him gently round when Loras led him in the direction of the window instead of the bed.

“I knew where I was going," Loras mumbled.

"Of course you did," Renly agreed cheerfully. 

 

* * *

 

 

Both pieces of silk ended up discarded on the floor of Renly's chambers by the time Renly was done with him and smiling, Renly rolled Loras off of him, too hot to tolerate the press of another's body against his any longer. Loras didn't seem to care and breathing heavily like he'd just fought a melee, he stretched across Renly's bed, yawning in the summer sunshine. If he felt at all humiliated by the afternoon's events, he surely didn't show it, and he lay across the bedclothes like the cat that had got the cream.

They lay like that for a while, Renly stroking his hands over Loras' lower back. "Did you ever write to your father?" Renly asked absent-mindedly, "About Margaery coming to court?"

Loras yawned once more before he answered. "No," he admitted, "It slipped my mind."

Renly laughed, not quite sure whether he believed him. He knew all too well how unhappy Loras was with the idea of Margaery as Robert's queen. "Very well," he agreed nevertheless, "so do it now will you? I promised your sister that I would do my best and my best means that she needs to come to court."

"All right," Loras sighed, and climbing off Renly's bed, diligently, he sat down at Renly's writing table and picked up a fresh piece of parchment.

"Thank you," Renly smiled, rolling over lazily to watch him work, the scratching of the quill against the paper rather satisfying. 

It didn't take long and Loras was just getting up to return to his rooms to seal it when it occurred to Renly that Loras looked a little suspicious. He seemed somehow to be in great haste to leave Renly's chambers, and he'd folded the letter up so that Renly might not glimpse its contents.

"Can I see it?" Renly asked cheerfully, deciding to test the waters.

Indeed, Loras looked suddenly very wary. "Um," he managed, "Well it's to my father. It's private."

Renly grinned. He wasn't fooled by that. " _Let me see it_ ," he wheedled. He stood up, drawing himself up to his full height and laughing as Loras backed further up against the wall as Renly barred his escape to the door. He only stopped when Renly had backed him fully into the corner and defiantly, he put the letter behind his back.

Renly gave Loras his most winning smile. "Come Loras," he said sweetly. "I won't read it all, just the part where you ask him if Margaery can come to court."

"All right," Loras agreed quickly, seemingly reassured, and bringing the letter out from behind his back, he unfolded it for him. He kept his palm over the top section though. Very firmly, Renly noticed, and he studied his face suspiciously as he began to read.

_King's Landing is particularly lonesome now that half of the King's court has accompanied him north, and it would be very lovely indeed if you were to send Margaery to join me. There are many accomplished ladies that she might enjoy the company of, and I of course would do my best to keep her safe._

That seemed all in order, but still, Renly wasn't convinced. "And what have you written above that?" he asked sceptically. Gently, he pried Loras' hand away and began to read.

 _Dear Father,_ it began,  
 _I hope everyone is well at home. I am  pleased to tell you that I am greatly enjoying my time in King’s Landing. So much seems to happen here, even in the King’s absence. Yesterday, we had not one, not two, but three bodies found washed up in the Blackwater, their throats slashed and their flesh all puffy from the water. It really makes Highgarden look like the most dull part of the Seven Kingdoms. There’s frequent brawls too which I love to stand and watch. Men seem to fight anywhere, desperate to get their hands on any woman they can so that they can rape her- be it a peasant tavern girl or a high born lady. It’s rather interesting how the smallfolk seem to behave like animals here.The other day even, I saw the daughter of one of the lesser houses of the Crownlands raped in the street, in pure daylight, even though she had a full train of guards_.  _Of course, this isn't to be desired, but it gives me much opportunity to act the perfect knight that I am and rescue many a fair maiden. I believe you would be proud of me._

“You can’t send this!” Renly laughed as he read it. "You just can't!"

“Why not?” Loras asked simply, his arms folded.

"Well none of it's true," Renly protested, "A poor Master of Laws I'd be indeed if noble women were raped freely in the streets without consequence." King's Landing was a shithole, Renly thought, but it wasn't half as bad as Loras made it out to be. 

"Well maybe you just need to go out a little more," Loras offered stiffly, "and see what King's Landing is really like?"

Renly just raised a sceptical eyebrow. "Nice try Loras," he laughed, "But your sister will have a fit if she sees what you've written to your father." Smiling, he pushed Loras back in the direction of his writing table. This time, he would stand over Loras until it was done properly.


	110. Chapter 110

Loras’ attempts to sabotage his and Margaery’s plans proved to have been unnecessary, Renly found. Throughout the next few months Loras wrote to his father often and yet Mace Tyrell’s answer was always the same. It seemed that it was only over his dead body that his beloved daughter would be allowed to leave Highgarden without him. Loras, it seemed, whist his favourite son, was not to be trusted with Margaery. She was to stay within the white castle that she'd grown up in, where her father could keep both eyes on her.

And in spite of his hatred of the idea that Margaery might come to court to be introduced to Robert, Loras took great offence at his father’s refusal. He ranted and raved, and for all that Renly knew he loved his father, he called him every insulting name under the sun.

It was a slight that he hadn’t forgotten by his sixteenth name day and when Renly suggested sleepily that he might open the letter that his mother and father had sent him for the occasion and had been lying on Loras' dresser for the past week, he scowled, throwing it onto the floor without even glancing at it.

“Aren’t you going to read that?” Renly laughed from his bed, yawning loudly.

“No,” Loras said petulantly, thrusting his nose in the air. “After all, my father thinks I’m turning two and ten rather than six and ten.” As if to illustrate his point, he stepped moodily on the piece of parchment, crumpling it slightly under his bare feet. 

Renly just smiled, amused. He knew without a doubt that within a few hours Loras would be picking his letter back up, hanging on to every word his beloved mother and father had written for him. His affections for those he loved never wavered but paradoxically almost, Renly knew that he could be quite fickle about when he’d admit to those affections.

“Come back to bed won't you,” he told him, lifting the covers up so that Loras might be tempted to join him once more. They were both already satisfied and sore, for Loras had shaken him awake just before dawn to see to his needs, and now, what Renly really wanted to do was to simply close his eyes with Loras beside him and go back to sleep. He couldn't do that whilst Loras was stomping about his chambers as if he had indeed just turned two and ten. 

Eventually, Loras obliged. Scowling still, he slid back into bed beside him and Renly pulled him close, breathing in the scent of him.

“You grow more beautiful every year,” he told him with a small sigh. He was pleased to see that this brought the first smile of the day to Loras’ face and smiling himself, he traced Loras’ features with a finger in the dim morning light, wondering what had become of that petulant ten year old he’d first been sent. That child was completely gone now, Renly supposed, and it was a man now that lay in his arms- a man who won tourneys left right and centre and who had fucked him this morning as if he’d been fighting in a melee.

“Do you feel any different?” Renly laughed softly against Loras’ cheek. “Now that you’re officially a man full grown?”

“Not really,” Loras told him, shifting in his arms until he was comfortable. He didn’t seem satisfied even then though, and smirking, he reached out for Renly’s hand and pushed it downwards.

“Again?” Renly sighed wearily, stifling a yawn. "Surely not?"

“Again.”

Renly just nodded through another yawn. Usually, he was more than willing to do what Loras asked of him when it would probably involve one of them fucking the other, but even he had to draw a line when it was still barely past dawn and he'd scarcely had a few hours sleep. As it was though, it was Loras' name day and so he supposed that he was at his complete disposal today. With that in mind, he slid his hand down Loras' stomach. His hand found Loras’ waiting cock easily, hot and hard between them, and without further ado, he wrapped his fingers around the velvety skin, stroking from base to tip and squeezing gently in the way he knew Loras liked.

Indeed, he saw Loras’ eyes slowly close at this and he couldn’t help but smile widely. It was a sign that he was doing it right and it made him a little proud to think how well he knew Loras’ body; indeed, there wasn’t an inch of skin on it that he hadn’t touched or didn’t know by heart.

With a sigh that made Loras’ curls flutter, Renly let out a soft groan as his sleepiness slowly abandoned him to make way for lust. Loras’ cock was heavy in his hand and satisfyingly warm, and quickening his pace, he pushed his own smallclothes aside too, hopeful that Loras might be as generous as he was being. Indeed, as if Loras had read his thoughts, he trailed his hand down Renly’s stomach, a sword-calloused hand sliding around Renly's own cock to join him in his rhythm.

Renly was just closing his eyes to enjoy it though when they were rudely interrupted. The rapping on the door was soft, tentative even, but in the silence of the morning it made both Renly and Loras lift their heads in irritation, cocks still in hand.

“Half the bloody servants won’t even be up yet,” Renly groaned in disbelief. “If this is your squire having a nightmare or something Loras, I’ll lock the damned boy in the black cells for a night or two.”

Loras smiled wryly at that, probably because whilst the idea of putting a twelve year old in the black cells wasn’t unheard of, the idea of Renly doing it because the poor lad had merely disturbed them at an early hour was quite a ridiculous one.

“Really though,” Renly muttered when Loras said nothing, “What could anyone want with you at this hour?”

Loras shrugged, and taught muscles rippling in the early morning light, rose off the bed. He pulled his smallclothes back on quickly, picking them up from where Renly had tossed them last night, and went to the door.

He stepped outside to talk and ignoring his neglected throbbing cock, Renly pricked his ears to try and listen. It was indeed Loras’ squire and he could hear confusion in the young boy’s voice if not his words.

Loras stepped back inside shortly. “It appears there is someone who wishes to speak to me,” he said, sounding slightly amused for a reason Renly didn’t understand, “Apparently they are seeking my aid in seeking someone out, but perhaps he bears me a name-day gift too.” Laughing, he pulled a tunic and breeches on, and whilst it was still clear that he’d been roused from bed, he was now decent enough to be seen.

To Renly’s annoyance, he disappeared then, without even giving him a kiss goodbye. He wasn’t gone long though and Renly sat up in bed as the door swung back open. Loras looked more than a little amused now and he smirked knowingly as he caught Renly's eye.

“I’d pull those covers up Renly,” he laughed, “There’s someone to see you,”

Renly only had time to startle and yank the bedclothes up to his waist before he saw the face of his own squire appear over Loras’ shoulder, the boy already much taller than Loras could ever hope to be. 

“Loras!” he hissed, “You could have at least let me get dressed.” As to why Alyn was here Renly had no idea, but he did know that he was beyond displeased. Sat in Loras’ rumpled bed with his hair sticking up and his skin all sticky from his and Loras’ lovemaking, he knew that he’d never planned on being seen like this by anyone except Loras.

Loras shrugged though. “It’s my name day, allow me my amusements.” He sat himself down at his writing table, beckoning Alyn in, “And besides, I’m sure your squire has seen you unclothed before.”

Alyn looked quite and utterly miserable. “Apologies my lord,” he said, fumbling over his words in his embarrassment, “You were sent for and it was urgent and I didn’t know where else to look when you weren’t in your chambers, and I thought Ser Loras might.”

Renly sighed and flattened his hair. “Who’s looking for me?” he asked. He supposed it was logical that the boy might come to Loras in an urgent search for him and yet it still irritated him a little. If he'd had it his way, Alyn wouldn't have even known to come to Loras in the first place. 

“Lord Varys,” Alyn told him, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot.

“Varys?” Renly clarified. “You’re telling me that my brother’s _spider_ has summoned me at this ungodly hour?” He bit back a ruder remark that would have made the blush in Alyn's cheeks darken. Quite honestly, Renly wondered who Varys thought he was to be handing out summons to _him_.  

Alyn nodded. “Yes, my lord. He’s called a small council meeting.”

Renly sighed once more and sat back against the headboard. “Very well then,” he said, “I shall answer his god-damn summons. Tell whoever he sent for me that I shall be with them shortly.” More hastily than he would usually, he waved his squire from the room, not relaxing until Alyn had disappeared through the door. 

“Varys?” Loras asked, his head cocked to the side. “What business could he possibly have calling a small council meeting now?”

“I’ve no idea,” Renly muttered darkly as he got to his feet, “But mark my words, it shall be bad tidings he has to bring us.”

 

* * *

 

 

Renly was the last to arrive in the small council chamber and he was pleased to see that he was not the only one who looked to have been roused from bed. Littlefinger’s greying hair was in disarray and the clothing he’d selected even uglier than usual, whilst Ser Barristan had evidently been half asleep when he had dressed. He was armoured as usual, but his cloak hung over the wrong shoulder for the Kingsguard and Renly thought that he might have had his greaves on the wrong way round. 

Only Varys looked as he usually did and Renly wondered quite how the Lord of Whisperers had managed to find time to both powder and scent his face if it was indeed with urgency that he had called this meeting. That said, Renly did doubt too whether spiders actually needed to sleep. Even now he wasn’t seated with exhaustion as the others were but was pacing slowly about the room, his hands clasped behind his silk-clad back.

“Well why don’t you tell us why we’re here,” Littlefinger said dryly as Varys took his seat. “Unlike your honourable cut self, some of us actually have bed partners to get back to.”

Renly gave him his falsest smile. “Was she expensive Baelish?” he asked. He wasn't in a mood for Littlefinger usually and now, so tired that he might fall asleep at the table, he could barely stand the sight of the man. 

“Was yours?” Littlefinger quipped back, cruel mirth dancing in his eyes. “After all, a man does deserve the best on his name day doesn’t he lord Renly?” He sat back and smirked, his cruel tongue evidently not dampened by the early hour.

Ser Barristan looked confused. “Is it your name day today lord Renly?”

“No,” Renly admitted through gritted teeth, wondering how on earth Littlefinger managed to make it his business to remember the birth dates of every person in the Red Keep. He had no real response to his remark and he was glad when Varys chose that moment to speak.

“My lords,” he said, tittering less than usual with the evident gravity of the situation, “I regret having disturbed you so early, but there are words on the wind that must be discussed.”

“And where do these words come from?” Littlefinger asked.

“From across the Narrow Sea,” Varys said gravely, “From Pentos." He paused, almost contemplatively, fingering a piece of parchment in his hands. "Danaerys Targaryen was wed to a Dothraki horselord this week past. A Khal Drogo.”

Silence fell over the table. Renly didn’t know what to make of that information. He’d all but forgotten the existence of the Beggar King and his Stormborn sister. As far as he was concerned, the wandering exiled pair had never been little more than something to be laughed at, but Renly had been told enough stories about the warriors of the Dothraki Sea to know that a hoard of savages at one’s back posed a little more of a threat. Robert, he knew, would be thrashing at the bit as soon as word reached him. It was well known that had it not been for Jon Arryn's counsel, he would have had both of Rhaegar's siblings stabbed through the heart by now.

Littlefinger seemed more suspicious of Varys' words than the rest of them. “And who do you receive these tidings from?” he asked, leaning over the table slightly towards Varys, his eyebrow raised in his scepticism.

“Jorah Mormont," the eunuch replied, caressing the piece of parchment once more as if it were the lover he'd never have. 

“Who?” Renly asked, raising an eyebrow.

“A knight in ex-“

“-A fool is what he is!” Barristan Selmy interrupted. “He is no knight. He brings shame on those who have taken their oaths before the seven.”

Littlefinger smiled wryly. “Indeed. So tell us lord Varys, why should we believe anything that comes out of the mouth or a traitorous kni – _fool_ – whose words aren’t worth the parchment they’re written on?” He inclined his head in Barristan Selmy’s direction to acknowledge the amendment of his wording. “Sentenced to death for slaving, fled over the Narrow Sea out of Ned Stark’s clutches, reduced to selling his sword whilst his wife sold herself to some prince in Lys… he’s hardly a reliable source.”

Renly frowned at that. He couldn’t place it but he was sure that he’d heard that story somewhere before. He wanted to ask more but he refused to give Littlefinger the opportunity to display more of the knowledge that he seemed to collect as easily as Varys. 

“And this Dothraki that the girl has married?” he asked. “How big is his…” He wanted to say army but somehow, it didn’t sound right. Soldiers and armies had order, they were purposeful and organised. What the Dothraki Khals had were savages that rode behind them, brandishing sticks and pieces of steel that they'd sharpened on rocks. 

“How big is his what?” Littlefinger smirked smugly and Renly might have punched him if he hadn’t been brought up a lord.

“How many men does he have?” Renly clarified a little irritably, addressing himself deliberately to Varys.

“More than you,” Littlefinger told him with that same twisted smile that left Renly with no doubt as to what he was implying.

Violently, Renly bit down on his tongue. He might actually have punched the man then had it not been for Barristan Selmy inadvertently distracting him.

“Aye,” the old knight agreed, evidently having missed the veiled jibe in the Master of Coin's words. “We can field thirty thousand men in the Stormlands. I have heard of this Khal Drogo, they say he boasts the largest Khalasar in Vaes Dothrak, fifty thousand strong at least. Maybe even a hundred thousand.”

“A hundred thousand?” Renly scoffed. “This barbarian may very well have more men than the Stormlands but my kingdom is one of seven at Robert’s command. There are four hundred thousand soldiers in Westeros. Even if only half of them fight, and even if this Khal gets every single one of his men across the narrow sea- and I’d bloody like to see him try to land a single horse-laden ship in Shipbreaker bay- we outnumber them two to one.”

“You speak true,” Littlefinger admitted with a smirk. “But you forget one thing lord Renly.” He paused gravely, with a very slight glance sideways at Barristan Selmy. “ _The Targaryen loyalists._ ”

Renly understood then why he’d glanced at Barristan Selmy and he took a deep breath as he watched the lord commander of the Kingsguard squirm uncomfortably in his seat. “The loyalists have sworn themselves to Robert now," he insisted. "And he rewarded them with fifteen years of peace."

“Yes, but words are wind,” Littlefinger retorted, twisting his beard idly. “Oaths too. The loyalists outnumbered Robert’s men three to one in his rebellion. Numerically, it was a war that should have gone the other way. And if Viserys Targaryen crosses the Narrow Sea with an army at his back and the former loyalists raise their banners for him, there will be chaos.” He smiled oddly then, as if the thought rather entertained him. 

Renly opened his mouth to speak and yet Littlefinger continued.

“One hundred thousand men, Ser Barristan said that this Khal has,” Littlefinger carried on. “If Dorne has not forgotten the slaughter of Princess Elia and her children, that number rises to one hundred and thirty thousand. If the Reach declares, that number veritably doubles.”

“The Reach?” Renly scoffed. "The Reach poses no threat to the crown except in your imagination."

But Barristan Selmy nodded. “The Reach can field a hundred thousand men if they need to, and they answered King Aerys’ summons the most willingly of his loyalists. The king sent to ravens to each of the great lords, and where Greyjoy, Tully and Lannister ignored, only the Tyrells answered. It was only after Mace Tyrell had begun to march east that Prince Lewyn reluctantly called his banners to march north. The Tyrells were the first to call their banners and the last to dip them.”

Renly sighed. He was well aware that the Reach could field twice as many men as every other of the seven kingdoms. He did not need that explained to him and if it had been anyone but kind old Barristan Selmy doing the explaining, he might have felt a little insulted.

“Yes,” he agreed. “I don’t deny that the Reach is to be reckoned with, but that was fifteen years ago. There is a chasm between answering the summons of the albeit mad king that one has sworn oaths to, and rising for a beggar king who comes sweeping over the sea with an army of dirty barbarians at his back.” 

“True,” Barristan Selmy agreed. “And we must not forget that whilst lord Mace might have had more soldiers than the rebel armies combined, he sent but a few hundred men to the Trident.” He sighed and he suddenly looked rather far away. “I was there that day," he said slowly as if recalling the bloodshed, "and it was Dornishmen and the might of the Crownlands that followed Rhaegar and Prince Lewyn into battle. Mace Tyrell sat out that fight.”

Renly laughed wryly. “I know,” he said. “I watched him do it. And as inconvenient as that almost was for my brother and I, besieging a castle held by a garrison of five hundred men with a host of sixty thousand whilst the rebel army continues to advance on King’s Landing is not the work of a true Targaryen loyalist.” As much as he disliked speaking well of Stannis, Renly supposed that it could not be denied that his staunch refusal to dip his banners to Mace Tyrell had helped Robert win his crown. In his stubbornness to surrender, Stannis had kept the largest force loyal to the Mad King out of the fighting and Renly imagined without a doubt that if the Reach had combined with Prince Lewyn and Rhaegar on the banks of the Trident that the outcome of Robert's rebellion would have been different. 

“Indeed,” Varys agreed with a small secret smile. “I would say that any remaining Targaryen loyalists are few and far between.” He folded his powdered hands on the table and the scent of lilacs wafted over. “Still, though, the king must be informed that Viserys has found himself an army. A rider must be sent north.”

Renly just sighed. He was rather glad that he would be very far away when Robert received that news. Barristan Selmy seemed to be thinking the same as he was, and together they nodded at Vary's words. It was for the good of every one of them that Robert was told whilst hundreds of leagues away.

The small council meeting was dismissed then and it was very willingly that Renly returned to Loras and recounted all that had been said, unsurprised to see now that the letter from Highgarden had been opened and now lay on Loras’ pillow. Evidently he'd read it and Renly could even see that the creases from where Loras had stamped on it had been smoothed out.

“A Dothraki army then?” Loras asked once Renly had finished his weary tale, moving to the window to watch for the rider Varys had promised to send. 

“Apparently,” Renly laughed. “I dare say this beggar king poses no threat but Robert is going to wish he killed the dragon spawn all the same.”

"“I should very much like to fight a Dothraki Khal," Loras commented idly. Smiling with the evidently charming thought that he might face a battle-hardened savage in battle, he leant out over the sill as he often did, his curls dancing on the breeze. “That must be the eunuch’s rider,” he observed, pointing down to the streets below.

Renly leant out to see too. Indeed, a man all in black was riding through the streets, the King's colours on his cloak as he parted the crowds like a knife through butter. They stood watching for a while, the rider becoming smaller and smaller before he galloped through the city gates and onto the King's Road that would lead him to Winterfell.

“Your family aren’t actually Targaryen loyalists are they?” Renly asked absent-mindedly as the man disappeared over the northern horizon, his thoughts still back in the small council chamber.

“No,” Loras laughed. “We’re not.”

“Then who _are_ you loyal to?”

Loras paused, his eyes still on the horizon. “Ourselves,” he said quietly.


	111. Chapter 111

"We're to send an honour guard," Renly told Loras over their midday meal once he'd escaped from what was only the second small council meeting to be held in Robert's absence. "As if the one hundred knights and their retainers that Robert has already aren't honourable enough for him." He sighed, reaching over much of the cold cuts and bread that Alyn had laid out to the plate of poppyseed cakes that were meant for afters.

Loras raised an eyebrow at his greed but said nothing. "Whose idea was that?" he asked once he'd swallowed.

"Whose do you think?" Renly laughed.

Loras shrugged lazily, his curls flopping over his eyes. "Littlefinger's?"

Renly rolled his eyes. " _Littlefinger's?_ " he laughed, "Littlefinger couldn't find enough honour to fill a teaspoon, let alone a whole guard." Once the words were out of his mouth though, he wondered if he ought to have been so sceptical.  Aside from himself and Ser Barristan, the only other man to be included in the so called _honour guard_ was Ilyn Payne and Renly imagined that a pile of horse dung on the street had more honour than the king's justice did.

"Ser Barristan then?" 

"Of course it was Ser Barristan," Renly grinned, "Robert's only been gone five or six moon or so and already that old man is lost without a king to serve. His knees have probably stiffened up from lack of kneeling." He ran his hands through his hair. "As much as a like the man, you must admit sending an honour guard is a ridiculous idea."  
  
Loras laughed. "Do you not look forward to it then?"  
  
"No," Renly told him with a sigh, pouring himself another cup of wine. He would have poured Loras some too but as it was, his first cup was yet untouched. "It means that I shall be on the road for my name day, and if I am loath to look forward to anything that shall separate me from you."  
  
Loras smiled, his golden eyes sparkling. "You'll cope," he said. "That imp atop a horse should keep you entertained for a good day or two, and if that fails, you could always ride in the wheelhouse with Cersei. Think how the time would fly!"

Renly laughed. "As much as I would love that, I think not somehow." He sighed, wishing that having to share Cersei's company was only something to be jested about and not a likely reality. "At least I shall get to wear my new armour," he said, trying to look on the bright side. Only yesterday had Mott finished the final alterations to the majestic green suit and Renly couldn't lie, he had been entranced by the sight of it. Glorious in coloured steel and topped by the solid gold antlers that Renly had envisioned in his dreams, the suit was everything he had hoped for and more.

"True," Loras said, "And you shall look very handsome in it indeed." A fond smile came to his face and leaning over the table, he took Renly's hands in his own and dropped his voice. "I shall be more than a little disappointed not to be able to see you everyday in it," he whispered.

Renly grinned, the hint of lust in Loras' voice not past his notice. "Shall you be lonely without me?" he teased.  
  
"I shall weep every night," Loras told him in mock seriousness, and rolling his eyes, Renly shoved him roughly across the table.

"You'll miss me when I'm gone," he warned with a laugh. 

 

* * *

 

 

As it was, Loras did grow more resentful of Renly's going away as the time came for their departure. There was no end to his sulking and his irritation, and when the day itself came and Renly came to say goodbye, he clung to his arm as if he might be able to stop him leaving. It was only when Renly pointed out that they'd parted many times before and he always came back to him that Loras deigned to be sensible about it. He hadn't been at all happy though, and when Renly, Ser Barristan and Payne set off through the city gates, their guards and retainers flanking them on each side, Renly was just about able to make out a tiny figure sat at one of the windows of the Red Keep that almost broke his heart. 

Neither he or Ser Barristan were sure of how far their road would take them, but as it was, they had but to follow the kingsroad until they came across Robert's party. And whilst the weather was good and they made good time, Renly found it rather a dull ride. He had his guard to keep him entertained and Ser Barristan too, but the road was more dull than he could have imagined. Straight and constantly swarming with smallfolk and their wagons, the kingsroad seemed to stretch north forever.

Renly was glad thus, after far too much heavy riding, they began to hear chatter on the road of the King and his party having just crossed the Trident at the Twins. Many of the smallfolk had apparently seen them cross, and Renly smiled to hear how they marvelled as they recalled the sight of the great wheelhouse being drawn across the the mighty bridge that connected the Freys' identical holdfasts. 

Indeed, they came across the royal party that very afternoon, and Renly sat tall as soon as the camp came into view, proud in his new green steel. It did not escape his notice indeed that he drew many an admiring glance as they rode in, whispers soon circulating all around them that they were an honour guard sent for the king. 

They were greeted by Cersei herself, and as much as Renly loathed the woman, he supposed he ought to at least make a show of his admiration for her. Following Ser Barristan's lead, he dismounted gracefully from his horse and sunk to his knees before her as she descended the wooden steps of her wheelhouse, pulling his helm off in unison with Ser Barristan so that the crowd of knights might also be able to admire his face. Only Ser Ilyn did not bend before her, as if he perhaps knew that his ugly pockmarked face would bring Cersei more disgust than true honour. Instead, he stood off by the horses, not at all a part of the whispers of admiration that were beginning to buzz around Renly and Ser Barristan.

"The council does us great honour," Cersei said as they remained on their knees before her, speaking to the gathered crowds as much as to them, stood gracefully atop the wooden steps of her glorious wheelhouse. She looked as regal as Renly had ever seen her, and her golden tresses sparkling as it blew on the breeze, he supposed he had to admit that Robert had at least chosen a beautiful bride even if she was a prize cunt. 

“The king is gone hunting," she continued, "but I know he will be pleased to see you when he returns.” A tiny smile tugged at the Queen’s lips that could have been taken for gratitude but which Renly knew to signify that she recognised the blatant and utter lie in her words. Anyone who had made even passing acquaintance with Robert would know that he wouldn’t give a piss about an honour guard.

"Rise, my lords," Cersei told them, and as Renly and Barristan got to their feet, a soft cry like that of a small girl echoed through the silence, quickly followed by a lot of commotion as knights all around turned to see what was going on. 

Renly was the most curious of the lot, and bowing his head in one last show of respect to Cersei, he took a few steps forward to see if he could spot the cause of all the commotion. It didn't take him long and he cocked his head to see a young girl cowering on the floor amongst all the armoured knights. That wasn't what caught his attention though, and Renly raised his eyebrows as he took in the sheer magnitude of the animal that the girl was crouched next to. It was huge, huger than any dog Renly had ever seen, near the size of a small pony even. 

“A wolf?” Ser Barristan asked, his sword singing as it was unsheathed. 

It was like no wolf Renly had ever seen and he drew his sword warily. “Seven hells,” he said in amazement. “That’s a direwolf.” He edged nearer to get a closer look at the animal. He'd seen drawings of such beasts in the books he'd read as a child, but like dragons and white walkers, he'd thought them long gone from the world. 

“What’s it doing in camp?" Barristan echoed Renly's sentiments exactly. 

It was Sandor Clegane who answered the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, his rasping voice oddly amused. “The Starks use them as wet nurses,”

Renly cocked his head and stared down at the girl. She was still bent on the floor, her arms around the wolf as if it were a pet, her red hair mingling with the animal's grey fur. Judging from the Hound's words, she had to be a Stark but she didn’t look anything like one. She had thick auburn hair, hair of darkened fire that Renly wouldn’t have expected to burn so far north. 

She raised her head slightly then and to Renly's surprise, she began to cry, big wet tears filling her eyes as if she were frightened of the honour guard that the council had sent. Desperately, she held the wolf tighter, her dainty little hands tightening in the animal's fur. She looked so pitiful that Renly thought Margaery would have had her for breakfast if the two girls had had chance to meet.

“Joffrey, go to her.” The queen's voice cut through the crowd and Renly resisted the urge to roll his eyes. The farce that was sending Joffrey to protect anyone beggared belief. Renly still remembered hearing the rumours of Joffrey slitting a pregnant cat wide open to show Robert the kittens and he didn’t think he’d ever seen anything more ridiculous as when the notoriously cruel crown prince held out his hand to pull the frightened girl to her feet.

“What is it sweet lady?" he all but cooed as Renly resisted the urge to gag. "Why are you afraid?” No one will hurt you.” Pulling himself up to his surprisingly tall full height, he looked around at all the gathered knights, his face cross. “Put away your swords," he demanded, "all of you. The wolf is her little pet, that’s all.” turned his distaste on Sandor. “And you, dog, away with you. You’re scaring my betrothed.”

Renly sheathed his sword. Betrothed? There had much talk about the elder Stark girl as a bride for Joffrey in years past, but he hadn’t known that Robert had planned on suggesting it so soon. He looked curiously down at the young girl. She could only have been about eleven and dainty and pale, Renly didn’t think she’d last very long at all as Joffrey’s bride. What the boy really needed, he thought, was a bride like that hulking great maid of Tarth who could stick a sword through his back or a fist in his face if he tormented her.

The Hound slunk away through the crowd as he was bid, and yet the girl didn't seem soothed “It was not him my sweet prince," she whispered, "it was the other one.”

Renly knew immediately who she spoke of. He exchanged a knowing look with Ser Barristan. “Payne?” he chuckled. At least the girl had sense, he thought. It was wise to be fearful of Ilyn Payne and the greatsword so large that it had to be strapped across his back. Many a knight and lord had lost their head to the tongueless executioner. Quite how the girl could be so frightened of Ser Ilyn though and yet so unwary of the wolf, Renly was more than a little bemused about. The Starks were odd creatures indeed, it seemed.

Barristan smiled down at her gently though. “Oft-times Ser Ilyn frightens me as well sweet lady," he reassured her, "he has a fearsome aspect.”

Cersei’s voice again rung out. “As well he should," she said loftily as everyone turned to face her. "If the wicked do not fear the king’s justice, you have put the wrong man in the office.”

“Then surely you have chosen the right one, your grace” the girl managed feebly. 

Renly grinned as the crowd all about the girl erupted into laughter. He wasn’t sure she had meant to be humorous but he was the first to laugh regardless. The only one not to share in the laughter was Ilyn Payne himself, and he stood stock still by the horses, his face blank.

Barristan bent slightly to speak to her once more. “Well spoken, child. As befits the daughter of Eddard Stark." He gave a small bow. "I am honoured to know you. I am Ser Barristan Selmy, of the Kingsguard.” 

“The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard,” the girl said. "And councillor to Robert our king, and to Aerys Targaryen before him. The honour is mine, good knight. Even in the far north, the singers praise the deeds of Barristan the Bold.”

She spoke as if she were out of a storybook, Renly thought, and he laughed loudly. “Barristan the Old you mean. Don’t flatter him too sweetly, child. He thinks overmuch of himself already.” He smiled, and not wanting to be left out, bent too to speak to her. "Now, wolf girl, if you can put a name to me as well, then I must concede that you are truly our hand’s daughter.”

Joffrey stiffened. “Have a care how you address my betrothed.”

“I can answer,” the girl quickly said though. She smiled up at him, a soft sweet smile that reminded Renly of how Margaery smiled when she wanted to get her way. “Your helmet bears golden antlers my lord. The stag is the sigil of the Royal House. King Robert has two brothers. By your extreme youth, you can only be Renly Baratheon, lord of Storm’s End and councillor to the king, and so I name you.”

Renly grinned at her, impressed though not overly surprised that she could put a name to his face. He was one of the best loved lords in the kingdoms aside from being brother to Robert; it tended to make one well-known.

“By his extreme youth, he can only be a prancing jackanapes, and so _I_ name him.” Ser Barristan's tone was fond and Renly laughed loudest of all. He supposed that he deserved that for calling him Barristan the Old earlier. But whilst he would have liked to point out that having reached his twentieth name day on the road, _extreme youth_ was hardly befitting, he was cut off by Ilyn Payne pushing his way through the crowd. For what purpose, Renly had no idea, and he doubted that he ever would seeing as Payne had no tongue to tell him. Silently, he stood in front of the wolf as if he meant to take the beast’s head off, and Renly almost took a step backwards as the animal began to growl, a low deep rumble that came from deep inside its stomach.

The girl’s hand went to its head though and the animal hushed as if it were a kitten. 

“I am sorry if I offended you Ser Ilyn,” she said courteously. She seemed to have regained her footing now and Renly wondered if he'd been wrong earlier about her being too feeble to handle Joffrey.

Ilyn merely stared at her for a long while, and Renly watched the girl become more and more agitated at his silence. For a good few moments he didn’t understand her confusion, and then it dawned on him. _She didn’t know that he lacked a tongue_. Chuckling, he watched as Ser Ilyn then turned, making his way back through the crowd.

“Did I say something wrong your grace?” she said, addressing herself to Joffrey. “Why will he not speak to me?”

Renly gave her his most conspiratorial smile. “Ser Ilyn hasn’t been feeling particularly talkative these past fourteen years,” he commented mildly, thinking he might spare her the gruesome details.

Joffrey gave him a look that would have made Renly drop dead if looks could kill. He took his betrothed’s hands. “Aerys Targaryen had his tongue ripped out with hot pincers,” he explained, fittingly, Renly thought, as he imagined that Joffey might quite fancy a pair of hot pincers himself to use on his enemies and pregnant cats alike.

“He speaks most eloquently with his sword, however,” Cersei said firmly, “and his devotion to the realm is unquestioned.”

Quite obviously, Renly thought. As Ser Ilyn could give no answer even if they were to question him.

“Sansa," the queen continued, gesturing to Ser Barristan and Renly as she came up beside them. "The good councillors and I must speak until the king returns with your father. I fear we shall have to postpone your day with Myrcella. Please give your sweet sister our apologies. Joffrey, perhaps you would be so kind as to entertain our guest today.”

“It would be my pleasure, Mother,” Joffrey said smugly, and Renly thought he might vomit again. The way the girl was looking up at him disgusted him. She looked at him the way most girls looked at Loras and even though there was little more than three years between Loras and Joffrey, Renly didn’t think he’d ever met two boys less alike. Quite honestly, he didn’t know he pitied more- the girl, bound to following Joffrey around, or himself, condemned to spend time with Cersei.

He bit back his sigh though, and turning, made to humour his brother's Queen.


	112. Chapter 112

Renly had had Alyn remove his armour and weaponry before he joined the queen in her wheelhouse and yet now he wished he'd brought his sword. Cutting his own wrists would have been more entertaining, Renly thought as they went over the tidings of the Beggar King and his sister yet once more. The wheelhouse was magnificent to look upon and yet to Renly's dismay there weren't even any windows to distract him from having to stare at the queen's icy face as she spoke. Outside, she had exuded poise and grace, and yet inside the wheelhouse she had turned to cold steel.

"I don't care how many dirty savages this Targaryen boy has bought with his sister's cunt," she was saying. "Let this false king cross. Ser Jaime will throw him back into the sea, as is his duty as Warden of the East." She smiled smugly at Renly then and Renly knew it to be a jibe intended for him. She must have been aware that both Renly and Stannis would have desired the Arryn boy's title

Renly refused to let her see him squirm.

"We must be ever grateful then that we have a warden so well practised in killing kings," he told her with a small smile.

Cersei didn't like that, she clearly didn't like that at all. She gave no sign of it though except a hardening of her lovely eyes and a stiffening of her posture. "Yes," she agreed, her voice taught, "It cannot be forgotten that Ser Jaime dealt the heroic blow that helped win us our throne."

"Indeed," Renly smiled. "It can't be forgotten at all. And I'm sure that when the time is right, Ser Jaime will be more than willing to bravely kill another king for us, even if is a beggar one instead of a mad one."

Ser Barristan Selmy began to nod. "Your grace," he began to say, but he never finished the sentence, for suddenly there was a commotion outside. Once more Renly cursed the lack of windows as he turned to try and see what it was.

"Fetch a maester," someone was screaming. "He's hurt. The crown prince is hurt."

Cersei was out of the wheelhouse like an arrow from a bow. "My darling boy," she cried as she ran down the steps, " _Where is he! Somebody bring him to me!_ "

It was the most emotion that Renly had ever seen her show and frowning, he and Barristan followed her out. A large crowd was gathered in the centre of the camp, all huddled around Joffrey. He was horseless and he clutched his arm to his chest with a look of fury on his face that lived up to the house words that he and Renly shared.

He was indeed hurt and Renly almost delighted to see blood trickling out from between his fingers, staining his pretty leather cuirass with the colours of his mother's banners. The Stark girl stood beside him and she looked more frightened than she'd been this morning in front of Ilyn Payne.

Cersei reached her son shortly before a maester did, and she pried his fingers away from his mangled arm arm. "Who did this to you?" she demanded, her face a little contorted. " _Who did this to you?_ "

Joffrey's eyes flashed with rage, and as a maester approached, he flung the poor man away from him with his good arm. " _Get off me!_ " he spat. He turned to his mother. "It was that direwolf mother, that beast of Arya Stark's. It savaged me with its teeth."

Renly had yet to meet the other Stark girl and yet if what Joffrey said was true, he imagined that he was going to have much respect for her.

"And where is the girl?" The queen asked. She turned to the Stark girl. "Sweet Sansa, where is your sister?"

"I don't know, your grace," the poor girl whispered. "She ran away."

Cersei's expression could have frozen Dorne.

 

* * *

 

 

Joffrey's wounds had been bandaged by the time that Robert and his hunting party returned and Cersei's icy rage had neither cooled nor thawed. The carcass-laden horses were barely into camp before she was telling Robert of his son's wounds, and Renly watched as she spoke loftily from the steps of the wheelhouse, her words carrying on the still summer air.

Ned Stark merely listened quietly as Cersei told of his daughter's direwolf savaging Joffrey, and he waited until she had finished before he spoke. "I'm sorry to hear of his grace's injuries, but I'm sure Arya meant no harm," he said. He looked around. "Where is she? She must be called to explain herself."

"Your daughter ran," Cersei said, "That alone is proof of her guilt in the matter."

"Guilt?" Robert grunted. "Silence Cersei. You talk as if you want to send the girl to Ser Illyn." He looked at Joffrey who stood at his mother's side, his face stony. "Have Joffrey see the maester," he said. He glanced at his new Hand beside him. "I want those dear we brought down roasted. I'll hear no more of it until the Stark girl is back in camp."

It seemed he was going to hear no more of it at all that day. Night had fallen and the younger Stark girl still had yet to appear. When she was still missing by morning, the party had no choice but to send out riders for her, as they themselves trundled on towards Castle Darry, where they would have ample food and shelter until the girl was found.

They were not made particularly welcome in the castle. The Darrys had been staunch Targaryen supporters, Renly knew, and he laughed to hear of how on the journey north, all the tapestries that depicted the glory of the dragons' rule had been stashed hurriedly in the cellars. Varys, it seemed, must have forgotten the Darrys when he had declared that there were few Targaryen loyalists left in Westeros.

The recent tidings of the Beggar King did not help matters and Renly didn't think that anybody had forgotten either that it was Ser Willem Darry who had stolen the Targaryen children across the Narrow Sea before Stannis could get to them at Dragonstone. Personally, Renly held no grudge. It was suggested often that Robert's rage at Stannis' failure was the reason why Stannis now held the cold and barren lands of Dragonstone and not those of Storm's End. Really, Renly thought with a laugh, he ought to have written to Ser Willem Darry as a boy and given him his thanks. Storm's End was worth a lot more to him than two dead Targaryen children would ever have been.

The castle was crowded but as brother to the king, Renly had been given some of the finer chambers and so he had no complaint. And uninvited to either the Stark search party or the Lannister one Cersei insisted on, Renly passed the days cheerfully by watching lord Darry become more and more agitated as Robert continued to outstay his welcome.

The third day of searching had begun by the time Renly came across Ned Stark at close quarters. He'd seen him so only a handful of times before, first when he'd come to lift the siege at Storm's End, and then later, at Robert's coronation. He barely remembered what he'd looked like then, but now, he was surprised to see how old and weary the Warden of the North looked when regarded closely. Perhaps it was just the worry over his missing daughter, but the new Hand looked dog-tired before he'd even begun.

He of course did a double take at him, and Renly would have grinned had the circumstances been different. He dared say that for the lord of Winterfell, who had known Robert so well as a young man, seeing him come again before him must have been quite a shock.

"I doubt you remember me, your Hand," Renly said mildly. "It was a very long time ago when our paths last crossed."

"Lord Renly," Lord Eddard sighed, his voice strained and oddly stilted. "It's an honour to see you again."

Renly shrugged off the courtesy. "And your daughter?" he asked politely. "She's been found?"

A pained look came to Eddard Stark's face and Renly was reminded of how Mace Tyrell had looked in the few hours that Margaery had gone missing. The two lords were as alike as chalk and cheese, one lord of flowers and one lord of snow, and yet in a father's worry they shared.

"Not yet," he admitted wearily, "But we shall keep looking until she is."

"Of course," Renly said. He gave a small bow. "I shan't keep you then. I wish you the best of luck in your search."

Ned Stark raised a very feeble smile, and as Renly watched him leave, he had to wonder just how long the weary frozen man from Winterfell would last in the capital before he was sent fleeing back north with his tail between his legs.

 

* * *

 

 

Renly was supping in his chambers when the girl was found, and all too curious to see the girl who had left Joffrey's arm in heavy bandages, Renly left his meal half uneaten, heading quickly to the audience chamber where he was told the king and queen had gathered to hear the girl's story.

Robert was already slumped in Darry's high seat when he came in and Renly weaved his way through the gathered knights, most of them Lannister men, until he would have a good vantage point from which to watch. It was an easy enough prospect in theory, and yet seeing as everyone else in the room seemed to have the same idea, there was much jostling as he tried to near the king. Not for the first time, he was glad for his height, and drawing himself up tall, he peered over the heads of other smaller men to see what was going on.

Joffrey and Cersei stood beside Robert and to Renly's surprise, the Stark girl had already been brought before them to be judged. Cocking his head, Renly studied her. She was a small girl, a tiny slip of a girl even with knobbly knees and scrawny arms, and whether she always looked that way or whether it was the result of four days scrambling through bracken and streams, she appeared as if she'd been dragged from a gutter. Her hair was matted and tangled, her face dirty, and her clothes stained with mud and torn. Having seen her sister, Renly felt a little sorry for her. She had none of the southron beauty that the auburn haired one had had. This one on the other hand was clearly the Stannis of the Stark children, passed by when the gods had decided who might be particularly comely and who might not. That said, Renly supposed she might improve with time. She was only a child after all.

 _A frightened child_ , he had to think as he looked a little closer. Staring at the ground with a determination that Loras might have admired, she appeared to be making a defiant stand against Joffrey and yet Renly could see the tears already pricking her eyes.

"Arya," a voice called and the tears that Renly had seen fell properly as she raised her head to see her father entering the room.

Renly watched curiously as the new Hand of the King and his daughter went to each other, Ned Stark striding with long purposeful steps that was almost a run and the girl bolting to him like a caged tiger just released. It was sweet to see the way lord Eddard cradled his daughter to him and Renly had to wonder whether these northern men were actually as cold and frozen as was said.

The girl was sobbing as her father held her, shaking in his arms, and even though she was scrawny and looked like she'd been dragged through a hedge backwards, it was clear to say that her tears softened the hearts of everyone in the room. Ser Barristan could be seen giving her an encouraging smile, and even Robert looked down on her with pity. The only two people entirely unmoved by the child's tears even seemed to be Joffrey and his mother, their faces' identical in their stoniness. Smiling to himself, Renly had to wish that the wind might change and they would be stuck like that.

"I'm sorry," the girl cried over and over again as Ned Stark rocked her.

"I know," her father told her, "Are you hurt?"

"No," she whispered. "Hungry some. I ate some berries but there was nothing else."

"We'll feed you soon enough." Still clutching his daughter, he rose to face Robert. "What is the meaning of this?" He looked about the room, his voice ringing angrily as he stared at almost each and every man in turn. "Why was I not told that my daughter had been found? Why was she not brought to me at once?"

"How _dare_ you speak to your king in that manner!" Cersei snapped.

Robert stirred at that, and Renly resisted the urge to grin. There was nothing more exciting than when Robert lost his temper at his wife and he was determined to relish every moment of it.

"Quiet woman," he snapped. He straightened lord Darry's seat, running a hand over his bushy beard. "I am sorry Ned. I never meant to frighten the girl. It seemed best to bring her here and get the business done with quickly."

"And what business is that?" The Hand's voice was icy like the land of cold and snow that he called his home.

Cersei stepped forward. No, Renly thought. She slinked forward, like a cat coming to claim its prey. "You know full well, Stark," she hissed. "This girl of yours attacked my son. Her and her butcher's boy. That animal of hers tried to tear his arm off."

Renly was just thinking how odd it was that anyone should dare to attack a crown prince as vicious as Joffrey when the girl seemed to find her backbone.

"That's not true!" she retorted, her face indignant and just a little desperate. "She just bit him a little. He was hurting Mycah."

"Joff told us what happened." Cersei took another threatening step forward and Renly hoped that Robert would silence her again. "You and the butcher boy beat him with clubs while you set your wolf on him."

"That's not how it was." The girl looked about to cry again and her father put a steadying hand on her shoulder.

"Yes it is!" Joffrey cried loudly. "They all attacked me, and she threw Lion's Tooth in the river!"

"Liar!" the girl yelled.

"Shut up!" Joffrey screeched back.

" _Enough!_ " Robert roared, rising from his chair. He looked more than a little irritated and Renly suspected that he wished now to get back to his wine. Indeed, he glowered at the girl standing before him. "Now child," he said a little more gently, "you will tell me what happened. Tell it all, and tell it true. It is a great crime to lie to a king." He looked at Joffrey, almost scathingly. "When she is done, you will have your turn. Until then, hold your tongue."

Renly smirked as he watched Joffrey's face contort. If anyone else had spoken to him like that, Renly imagined that he'd have thrown a veritable fit, screaming for their head. When faced with his father though, his cheeks turned a very satisfying and very distinct shade of pink, like a lobster that had been freshly boiled. He seemed adamant that he would not even look at the Stark girl and Renly wondered if he were even listening.

"I was playing with Myca on the banks of the river," she was saying. "I'd asked him to. We'd found sticks, brooms that I got Fat Tom to snap the heads off, and we were practising with them."

"Practising what?" was Robert's question.

"At swords," she said bluntly as if there were nothing strange about the idea, "It was my idea. It wasn't Myca's and we were practising, and Sansa and J-, Prince Joffrey interrupted. And he cut Myca's face with his sword." She paused and looked to her father for encouragement. "It was bleeding and he wouldn't stop, and so I hit him with my stick. I know I shouldn't have, I know and I'm sorry, but Myca's my friend and he was _hurting_ him."

"Go on," Robert prompted, raising a hand to quell the words already rising in his wife's throat.

"We fought," the girl said, "And he backed me up against a tree. And Nymeria-"

"-her wolf," Ned Stark explained, for which Renly was glad, because he'd been imagining the Rhoynarian queen and her ten thousand ships, a fleet which he thought a little too large for the Trident.

"And Nymeria, she leapt at him. She didn't mean to hurt him, I swear it, she was protecting me. And then, I admit it, I threw his sword,  _Lion's Tooth_  I mean,in the river. It's with the rubies now."

Renly grinned at that, a small chuckle escaping beside his best efforts. Looking from the scrawny girl to the tall crown prince, he thought he might have sold everything he owned to have been there that day on the banks of the Trident. He could see it now, the gold, ruby encrusted sword sinking into the murky water with a soft plop whilst Joffrey flailed helplessly on the banks at the mercy of a savage little lady.

Robert evidently didn't share his humour though, and he turned, glaring at Renly as if it were Stannis standing in front of him. "Ser Barristan," he said icily, "please escort my brother from the hall before he chokes."

Ser Barristan gave him an apologetic look and Renly tried desperately to compose himself. "My brother is too kind. I can find the door myself." He gave his best mocking bow to Joffrey, still fighting the smile that had taken over his face. "Perchance later you'll tell me how a nine-year-old girl the size of a wet rat managed to disarm you with a broom handle and throw your sword in the river."

The look his words brought to Joffrey's face was glorious and Renly could barely hold it together as he exited the room. Indeed, as soon as the wooden door was safely shut behind him, he stopped trying even, his laughter bursting out once more as he leant heavily back against the wall and tried to remember how to breathe again.

" _Lion's Tooth!_ " he chuckled to himself. This, he thought, made even his separation from Loras worth it.


	113. Chapter 113

Tyrell guards stood at the door to Loras' chambers; the squire was evidently abed, and Renly didn't know whether to be flattered or worried when they stood immediately aside for him, their heads bowed as if they knew that if asked, they were to say that the Lord of Storm's End had certainly not been slinking in an hour before dawn. He might have been embarrassed, and he knew he would have been had it not been a hard fortnight-long ride from Castle Darry.

The drapes were drawn in Loras' bedchamber and Renly could just make out his shape under the covers. He was curled up in the centre of the bed and Renly sat down beside him, just about to make out the soft tumble of curls across the silk pillows. He reached out to touch one, rolling the silky strands between his fingers as he watched Loras' chest rise and fall. His eyes were closed, his lips slightly parted and one hand gripped loosely around the covers as if it were a sword.

“Gods you’re sweet,” Renly murmured as he watched him. Sliding his boots off, he began preparing himself for bed, putting the scroll he'd been given by his brother on Loras' writing table. Robert had pressed it into his hands merely hours earlier, bidding him ride forth in all haste to convene a small council meeting, and yet seeing as dawn had not yet breached the horizon, he imagined that he had an hour or so before he needed to urgently seek Pycelle out. Ned Stark might have been diligent but he wasn't _that_ diligent.

Loras didn’t even stir as Renly slipped in beside him. He didn't wake either when Renly moved him into his arms; he was in that deep type of sleep where one is soft and pliable, and Renly couldn't help but smile as he cradled him in his arms.

“Loras,” he whispered, “ _Loras,_ ”

Loras' eyes opened as if they were made of lead. He stretched out an arm to slide around Renly’s waist before his eyes fluttered closed again.

Renly laughed and kissed his forehead. “Loras,” he chuckled softly. “I’m back.”

Loras mumbled something inaudible back and Renly stroked his hair off his face. “Wake up won’t you,” He gave him a gentle shake.

Very reluctantly, Loras' eyes opened once more and he fixed Renly rather blearily, his expression dazed. “Go back to sleep Renly,” he murmured. “It’s late.” Yawning, he tucked his head into Renly’s neck, his arms winding around his chest.

Renly chuckled and glanced down at him. He wondered if he ought to feel slighted. “Aren’t you pleased to see me?” he asked.

Loras raised his head, frowning at him before blinking a few times. He cocked his head and finally the pieces seemed to fall into place. “When did you get back?” he asked slowly.

Renly laughed. “You could summon a little more excitement to see me don’t you think?”

Loras rubbed his eyes. It took him a few moments but then he smiled widely, flinging his arms almost wildly around Renly's neck. ”Better?” he laughed, and then he was kissing Renly all over- his cheeks, his neck, his ears, his nose- until eventually he settled for his mouth. It was hardly a proper kiss, more half a laugh really, and yet Renly wouldn’t have had it any other way. The joy radiating off Loras was tangible and Renly basked in it. It was so rare that he saw Loras so enthusiastic.

“Have you missed me?” he laughed against Loras’ mouth.

 _“Have I missed you?_ ” Loras repeated in disbelief. “Renly, most days I’ve contemplated going after you I’ve missed you so much.”

Renly grinned and all but smothered Loras with his embrace. “I missed you too,” he told him. “Every day.”

“And the nights?”

“The nights especially,”

By now, Loras had settled himself comfortably in Renly’s arms. “You're wearing far too many clothes," he said rather decisively. He pulled his own nightshirt off first before turning his attentions to Renly.

“You want to fuck?” Renly laughed.

“No,” Loras said, “I want to feel your skin against mine.” Roughly, he tugged Renly’s tunic over his head and pushed himself up against him. Smiling, Renly held him to him. Loras had yet to grow much hair at all on his chest and he was smooth against Renly’s skin, like the silken bedsheets. Oddly, Renly thought, it was these tiny little differences between his and Loras’ bodies that fascinated him. Loras was slimmer, his hips and shoulders narrower, and in spite of his six and ten years, the hair that he had across his chest and along his arms and legs was finer than Renly’s, like a duckling that hadn’t quite shed its first downy feathers. He was tall and strong though and Renly ran his hands up Loras’ sides, feeling the muscle lying dormant beneath that silky skin.

Loras’ practically groaned at the touch and Renly laughed.

“You sure you don’t want to fuck?”

Loras shook his head.

“No you’re not sure, or no you don’t want to?” Renly grinned.

“No I’m not sure and yes I want to.” Loras said breathlessly, “I want you over me, with our chests touching and your arms around my shoulders.”

“My, you’ve got commanding in my absence,” Renly laughed. “I shan’t hesitate to obey, but first you’ll have to turn over for me,”

Loras ignored him and merely leant in to kiss him again. The kiss was difference this time, there was clear intent in it, and Renly closed his eyes to better enjoy it. Like this, he couldn’t see Loras, but his senses were filled with him all the same. The scent of him was heavy all around him, the taste of him sweet on his lips, touch of him hot against his bare skin and his breathing soft in his ears. It was heaven, Renly thought and he could never ask for more.

He tightened his hands in Loras’ hair. “Did you think of me often?” he whispered.

Loras nodded headily. “Want to know what I did whilst I thought of you?” he whispered, tilting his head to mouth the words in Renly's ear.

Renly laughed under his breath. He'd forgotten how crude Loras could be when the mood took him, and he grinned. “I can imagine,” he said against Loras’ cheek, even as Loras reached down between them and wrapped his hand around his own cock. “Are you going to show me too?”

Loras just smirked and a strong hand planted on Renly’s chest, pushed him away. “Watch,” he told him breathlessly.

Leaning back on his elbows, Renly watched. Loras was rougher with his cock than Renly ever would have dared be and Renly drank in the sight of it, breathing heavily as Loras’ sword-roughened palm tightened around the velvety skin.

Loras evidently intended to tease him, for with his spare hand, he reached under his pillow, drawing out a small bottle of scented oil he’d evidently hidden there. Strong fingers pulled the stopper out with a soft pop and he poured the silky liquid generously into his cupped hands, laughing eyes meeting Renly’s own and the smell of jasmine and pear filling their senses.

Renly almost groaned as he watched Loras’ hand slide, the oil leaving a glorious sheen all the way from his stomach to the insides of his thighs. Closing his eyes briefly, Renly reached out to touch.

Loras slapped his hand away with a smirk. “ _Watch,_ ” he breathed, “Don’t touch.”

Renly did groan this time, and it was reluctantly that he let Loras push him further across the bed. Unable to look away, Renly fumbled blindly with the laces on his breeches as he tried to draw his own cock out. It was a relief when he could finally wrap his hand around it.

“Loras,” he panted as he tightened his grip. “Just turn over will you. I can’t just watch any longer.”

Loras looked gleeful and he rolled over lazily for him, stretching out on his stomach. This, Renly thought, was his permission to touch and he ran his hands gratefully down Loras’ back, trailing his palms across his shoulders. Mace Tyrell would have a fit, Renly thought, if he knew his youngest son was currently naked underneath another man, waiting to be fucked, but for once he didn’t care. He took the vial of oil from where it had fallen atop Loras’ pillow and poured a little of the fragrant liquid into his palms.

He bent to kiss the small of Loras’ back. “Do you want me?” he asked.

“Yes,” he groaned. “I’ve wanted you for weeks.” He arched his back deliciously and Renly traced the curve of his arse with a finger, the oil leaving a bright sheen against Loras’ skin.

He was satisfyingly tight when Renly pushed a finger into him, and he made a rather rough sound in the back of his throat that made Renly’s chest tighten. “You know Loras,” he whispered, his eyes closed. “I could fuck you right now,”

“Then do,” Loras panted. “Please do. Please, Renly, do.”

Renly said nothing and slipped another finger into him. He wanted to savour him but he wanted to fuck him more, and so he hurried his efforts, groaning as he felt Loras stretch around his fingers.

Loras whimpered as he eventually entered him and Renly knew that he should have taken more time over readying him. He couldn’t find it in him to care though and Loras evidently didn’t seem to either. He took Renly’s cock eagerly, pushing and straining against him, his hands knotting in his hair almost painfully. He got his wish, and certainly, Renly didn't think they could have more bare skin pressed against the other. He had Loras pinned against the bed, and Loras evidently enjoyed the feeling of his weight above him. He could barely move under Renly and yet they rocked together gloriously, hands knitted in each other's hair and every touch and taste familiar despite the weeks apart.

 

* * *

 

 

Renly reckoned he must have dozed, for the sun was just creeping over the horizon when he next opened his eyes. Loras hadn’t moved from underneath him by the time Renly woke. He was awake, and Renly reckoned he must have been uncomfortable pinned underneath him like that, but he seemed quite content, rifling his hands through the strands of Renly’s hair that had fallen across his face as if he were trying to tidy him up.

“I haven’t squashed you have I?” Renly yawned.

Loras laughed and pushed Renly’s hair out of his eyes for him. “I’m fine,” he told him. “The best I’ve been for weeks actually.”

Renly grinned down at him but rolled off him all the same. For all Loras’ strength and prowess on the field, he was a slip of a thing really and Renly would really rather not flatten him. Loras seemed rather unimpressed though and he pressed himself immediately back against Renly’s side, wrapping his arms a little possessively around him.

“Tell me of your adventures won’t you?” he yawned lazily.

Renly smiled into his curls. “Where to start,” he sighed. It had been an unadventurous ride back from Castle Darry, although the constant rowing between Robert and Cersei had been somewhat amusing, and yet Renly reckoned that seeing Joffrey in pain was possibly the most gratifying thing he'd seen all summer. The boy had complained of his injury from dusk and until dawn, and yet whilst Renly would have liked to see it fester a little to draw the pain out, it seemed to be healing unfortunately well.

“Well what are the Starks like?” Loras prompted. “Do they actually have icicles hanging from their noses or is my grandmother telling fibs again?”

“Fibs I think,” Renly laughed fondly, thinking of the wrinkled old lady who had probably seen more than a few Starks in her lifetime. “But they seem to take their sigil more seriously than even you do as my lovely Knight of Flowers. The children have direwolves as pets.”

“Direwolves?” Loras breathed. He sat up a little. “You’re the one telling fibs now,”

“I am not,” Renly told him with a grin, “Each of the Stark girls had one. I only saw the one but you wouldn’t have believed how big it was. It was like a pony Loras, or at least it would have been when it was fully grown.”

“And they’re bringing them here?” Loras asked. “I can’t imagine them roaming the corridors. It would be like you riding a stag in a tourney,”

“Don’t give me ideas,” Renly said, rubbing his hand fondly over Loras’ cheek. He could see himself now, with a magnificent pair of antlers atop his helm and atop his steed. “You know Tommen had a fawn once apparently, Loras. He evidently started the fashion for sigils that follow one around. Perhaps soon, we'll see Joffrey being tailed by both a lion and a stag.” He sighed deeply, disturbed by how easy it was to imagine Joffrey replacing Lion's Tooth with a real lion. “But you shan’t be seeing the Stark ones I’m afraid.”

“No?”

“No,” Renly laughed. “One of them ran away, after taking a decent sized chunk out of Joffrey’s arm I might add, and Cersei had Ilyn Payne see to the other one I believe.”

Loras raised an eyebrow. “Did they give it a choice between the Wall and its head?”

“I suppose not,” Renly grinned, “As I’m sure it should have chosen the Wall, being of the North as it is. But forget that wolf, it’s the one that ran away that I admire.”

“The one that you say almost took Joffrey’s arm off?" Loras looked duly impressed.

“Yes,” Renly smiled. “And you have to hear this to believe it Loras. My cunt of a nephew was disarmed by a girl smaller than your sister!” He relished the look of surprise on Loras’ face and launched gleefully into the story, forgetting how miserably tired he was and certainly forgetting the small council meeting that was to come as he lost himself in it. When he reached the part where little Arya Stark had hurled Lion’s Tooth into the river, Loras began to laugh as he had done.

“It seems that jewels don’t fare well by the Trident,” he commented. “At least Rhaegar’s rubies will have company though.”

Renly nodded, smiling from ear to ear. “Lion’s Tooth,” he laughed. “Can you believe it? _Lion’s Tooth!_ I hope that odd little girl gets a sword instead of a broom handle and calls it Direwolf’s Tooth.”

Loras smiled. “Or she can keep the broom handle and call it Joffrey’s Tooth,”

Renly grinned. “Indeed,” He poked Loras in the ribs. “Your sword doesn't have a name does it?” he asked. He imagined that he would have known if it did.

Loras confirmed this. “No,” he admitted.

“Well it should,” Renly told him. “

Loras laughed, shifting in his arms. “I could call it after your cock Renly, and I would, was it not for the fact that…” he trailed off, sighing deeply. “Never mind," he said quickly, his eyes twinkling.

Renly raised an eyebrow. He wasn't blind to Loras' mischief but he supposed he could withstand a little teasing, from Loras at least. “No, go on,” he told him.

“Well,” Loras smirked, “I already named my pocket knife after your cock,”

“Gods you’re a little shit,” Renly laughed, giving Loras’ cheek a less-than-gentle slap. “Personally, I think my cock would be a better namesake for a greatsword.” He tugged one of the pillows out from underneath Loras' head and covered Loras' face with it.

“Do you?” Loras asked, once he'd tossed the pillow across the room . “Well I beg to differ,”

“You weren’t begging to differ last night,” Renly grinned.

“Was I not?” Loras asked sweetly, “Well perhaps I’ll have to inspect it again,” He moved his hands to Renly’s hips, fingers dancing across his bare skin.

Renly sighed and glanced out of the window. He could make out only the horizon but he imagined that he would see wagons lining the streets had he had a better vantage point. “I probably ought to gone to Pycelle ages ago Loras,” he lamented. “We’re supposed to convene for await Lord Stark.” He gestured to the scroll of parchment that lay still on the writing desk, written in Robert's own hand and sealed with the royal sigil.

“Don’t tell me you’re going already,” Loras sighed. He stood and went over to the table, unashamed of his nakedness. He inspected it duly. "If I rip this up, will you still have to go?" Renly laughed, propping himself up on his elbow.

"Yes," he said, "Seeing as I know exactly what's written inside." He stood too, pulling on his breeches from last night before he went to Loras' wardrobe, sure that he would find a few of his own garments hidden inside amongst Loras' things. Indeed, he wasn't disappointed. He found one of his doublets folded up underneath a pair of Loras' finest breeches. Green, it blended in well enough with Loras' things, had it not been for the many embroidered stags. He pulled it on over his head as Loras watched, unimpressed, before he then rifled through beautiful clothes that belonged to Loras.

His hands fell upon a lovely half-cape, woven in golden threat. "Loras," he laughed. "Can I borrow something from your wardrobe?"

Loras shrugged, uninterested for once in clothes. "If it fits you, then do as you like Renly." He was a little short with him and Renly knew that he was a little disappointed that he was running off so soon to a small council meeting.

“I’ll come back for you,” Renly laughed, as he arranged the cape across his shoulders and pinned his own brooch upon it. “As soon as the meeting is done, you shall have me for as long as you like,”

“Until the next meeting,” Loras said bluntly, eyebrow raised.

“Until the next meeting,” Renly agreed reluctantly. He bent down to kiss Loras’ curly head. “I will tell you though that we’re to be discussing a tourney in the meeting. A big one. For the Hand. On Robert’s orders.” He picked up the scroll from the table and slipped it up his sleeve.

It perked Loras up like nothing else and Renly grinned at him as he made his way to the door.

 

* * *

 

 

Pycelle convened the meeting as quickly as a bumbling maester could and by the time that Renly had returned to his own chambers very briefly to find something to eat the small council chamber was lacking only himself and their new Hand.

“Lord Renly,” a sly voice called as he entered and Renly forced a smile to hear that it was Littlefinger. “For a moment I mistook you for our Master of Ships. A shame that lord Stannis is still not with us,”

It was said to wind him up and Renly forced himself not to grind his teeth in frustration and prove him right. Anyone with an ounce of sense knew that he didn’t look anything like Stannis but Renly supposed the lines could blur if he started borrowing Stannis’ grim expressions.

“Indeed,” he laughed mildly. “Dragonstone still calls apparently,”

“Yes,” Littlefinger agreed. “So very strange that he left, and so soon after our dear Hand’s death. Quite a mystery indeed.” His eyes were twinkling and Renly knew he was daring him to ask him what he knew, for indeed, Littlefinger quite clearly knew exactly why Stannis had left. Renly imagined that he could probably have a lengthy conversation with Varys about the last meal Stannis had had before he left, or what he'd been wearing, or exactly who had been on board his ship as he departed.

“Quite,” Renly muttered, refusing to rise to the bait. He was glad thus when the doors swung open and he saw Lord Stark crossing the room towards them. He looked beyond weary and Renly thought he'd really have done well to find a new tailor. His clothes hung off him as if they were made for a larger man even if they were rather finely made.

“I see you have arrived safely, Lord Stark,” Renly smiled, glad that the man looked mildly more cheerful than he had been when his daughter was missing.

“And you as well,” Stark replied. As he had done many times before, he did a double take, and this time he seemed prepared to mention it. “You must forgive me," he said, "but sometimes you look the very image of your brother Robert.”

“A poor copy,” Renly shrugged. He bit back a smile, so sure he was that Loras would disagree.

“Though much better dressed,” Littlefinger smirked. “Lord Renly spends more on clothing than half the ladies of the court.”

Renly glanced down at what he was wearing. It was nothing special as far as he was concerned- indeed, half of his attire today had been chosen due to its presence in Loras' wardrobe- and yet the rest of the room still looked like they were dressed in rags compared to him. Littlefinger had meant the comment as a jibe, Renly knew, but he could hardly take it as one. “There are worse crimes,” Renly laughed. He looked pointedly at Littlefinger, “The way you dress, for one.”

Littlefinger ignored his jibe also and smiled his twisted smile at Stark. “I have hoped to meet you for some years, Lord Stark," he said, his voice like honey. "No doubt Lady Catelyn has mentioned me to you.” Renly had forgotten that Littlefinger had been fostered at Riverrun- surprising, seeing as Littlefinger was well known for it- and he relished the look that the Master of Coin's words brought to Ned Stark's face. No doubt he too was remembering the fact that Littlefinger would quite have liked Catelyn Tully- and Lysa Tully too if the rumours were to be believed- for himself.

“She has,” Stark told him icily. “I understand you knew my brother Brandon as well.”

Renly laughed. Stark’s cutting remark surprised him pleasantly and the noise brought Varys over like a fly to honey. He hovered awkwardly, his powdered hands folded across his chest.

“Rather too well,” Littlefinger said. “I still carry a token of his esteem." He gestured to his chest and Renly supposed it must be true then that Brandon Stark had left the young boy from the Fingers with a scar to be proud of. "Did Brandon speak of me too?”

“Often, and with some heat.” Stark replied a little wearily.

“I should have thought that heat ill suits you Starks. Here in the south, they say you are all made of ice, and melt when you ride below the neck.”

Renly grinned at that despite himself, for indeed, it was true. The Starks suited King's Landing ill at the best of times, but now, in the height of a summer which stretched endlessly before them, it was ludicrous almost that one might be in the capital. Stark didn't seem deterred though and he fixed Littlefinger rather stoically. "I do not plan on melting soon, Lord Baelish," he said slowly. "You may count on it.” He didn't wait for a reply and instead swept off in the direction of the table, towards Pycelle- a foolish move if Renly had ever seen one, for anyone with any sense knew not to engage the elderly maester in conversation voluntarily.

Soon they were called to the table. “My lords,” he said loudly, his voice surprisingly authoritative. “I am sorry to have kept you waiting.”

Renly sat down duly as he was bid. 

“We are but five,” Stark looked a confused and he looked about the table with a frown, his cold grey eyes passing over the three empty chairs. 

“Lord Stannis took himself to Dragonstone not long after Jon Arryn’s regretful passing,” Varys informed him as seemed appropriate as the Master of Whispers. “And our gallant Ser Barristan no doubt rides beside the king as he makes his way through the city, a befits the lord commander of the Kingsguard.”

Stark didn't seem placated. “Perhaps we’d best wait for Ser Barristan and the king to join us,"

Renly laughed. “If we wait for my brother to grace us with his royal presence it could be a long sit.” He imagined that they'd be there for weeks probably, sat in their chairs until they turned to stone, and Renly really didn't think that Loras would be all too happy about it.

“Our good king has many cares,” Varys said lightly. “He entrusts some small matters to us, to lighten his load.”

Renly rolled his eyes. “What Lord Varys means is that all this business of coin and crops and justice bores my royal brother to tears,” he said. “And so it falls to us to govern the realm. He does send us a command from time to time.” He drew the scroll of paper from his sleeve and laid it on the table. “This morning he commanded me to ride ahead with all haste and ask Grand Maester Pycelle to convene this council at once. He has an urgent task for us.” He supposed that he'd better not mention his dallying in Loras' chambers, and he passed the scroll quickly to Littlefinger, who passed it to Stark.

Ned broke the seal with nimble fingers and Renly enjoyed watching his face as he read on. “Gods be good,” he swore as he reached the end.

Renly grinned. He'd had a feeling that this cold stranger from the North would be less than impressed at the thought of a tourney. “What Lord Eddard means to say is that His Grace instructs us to stage a tournament in honour of his appointment as the Hand of the King.”

“How much?” asked Littlefinger mildly and Renly could see the imaginary cold coins spinning in the reflections of his eyes.

“Fourty thousand golden dragons to the champion," Stark read wearily. "Twenty thousand to the man who comes second, another twenty to the winner of the melee, and ten thousand to the victor of the archery competition.” He seemed unimpressed.

“Ninety thousand gold pieces,” Littlefinger sighed, “And we must not neglect the other costs. Robert will want a prodigious feast. That means cooks, carpenters, serving girls, singers, jugglers, fools-”

Renly smiled mockingly at him. “Fools we have in plenty." _Like yourself_ , he wanted to say.

Littlefinger ignored him and only Varys gave the hint of a smile. 

Pycelle, as usual, seemed unamused. “Will the treasury bear the expense?” he asked, and Renly resisted the urge to burst out laughing with the ridiculousness of that question. Pycelle evidently had been sleeping through more meetings than Renly had previously thought.

“What treasury is that?” Littlefinger asked with twisted smile, echoing Renly's exact sentiments for once. “Spare me the foolishness, Maester. You know as well as I that the treasury has been empty for years. I shall have to borrow the money. No doubt the Lannisters will be accommodating. We owe Lord Tywin some three million dragons at present, what matter another hundred thousand.”

Stark was evidently stunned and he let the scroll fall to the table. “Are you claiming that the Crown is three million gold pieces in debt?” he asked.

Littlefinger almost smiled. “The Crown is more than six million gold pieces in debt, Lord Stark. The Lannisters are the biggest part of it, but we have also borrowed from Lord Tyrell, the Iron Bank of Braavos and several Tyroshi trading Cartels. Of late I’ve had to turn to the Faith. The High Septon haggles worse than a Dornish Fishmonger.”

Renly kept quiet as Lord Stark began to frown. Aside from helping Littlefinger secure several of the loans from the Iron Bank, he had had no part in the Crown's debts and he would not see himself blamed for it, even if he did spend his own money rather freely.

“Aerys Targaryen left a treasury flowing with gold," Stark pointed out, not untruthfully. "How could you let this happen?”

Littlefinger shrugged. “The Master of Coin finds the money, the king spends it.”

“I will not believe that Jon Arryn allowed Robert to beggar the realm,” Stark protested.

Pycelle shook his head wearily. “Lord Arryn was a prudent man, but I fear that His Grace does not always listen to wise council.”

That, Renly thought, was like describing Pycelle as a little boring. “My royal brother loves tournaments and feasts.” he explained all the same, even though Eddard Stark probably knew his brother better than all. “And he loathes what he calls ‘counting coppers’”

“I will speak with His Grace,” Ned said, “This tourney is an extravagance the realm cannot afford.”

Renly laughed. Loras would not be pleased to hear that even though Renly doubted indeed that Ned Stark would be capable of changing his brother's will in the slightest. Speak to him as you will," he smiled, "we had still best make out plans.”

“Another day,” Stark told him sharply and Renly raised an eyebrow at his tone. “I am tired. Let us call a halt for today and resume when we are fresher.”

He evidently meant what he said, for Renly had but opened his mouth to speak before the Lord of Winterfell was sweeping from the room.


	114. Chapter 114

Needless to say, Ned Stark was powerless to change the Robert's mind. The king had dreamed and so the Hand would build, in this case a magnificent tournament with no expense spared. Renly was glad of it. For one, he couldn't imagine how unbearable Loras would have been if the prospect of a tourney was snatched away from under his very nose, but also he couldn’t say at all that he was displeased by Eddard Stark’s continued failure to make Robert see sense. As evident as it was that the Crown could not bear the expense of a tourney to welcome the Hand, it was satisfying to know indeed that the man who Robert loved more than either of his brothers would not be listened to either.

It reignited a fondness that Renly didn't often feel for Robert and in a rare display of brotherliness, they supped together that week. Whilst it had seemed like a good idea beforehand though, Renly was quickly reminded why he and Robert rarely passed any time together. Quite honestly, he and Robert had very little to say to each other, and after they had exhausted the topic of Stannis being a miserable old git, they both fell quiet, their hands going in unison to their cups of wine as they sought to fill the silence.

“So,” Renly asked at length, swilling his cup of wine. “Lord Stark still has little enthusiasm for this tourney of his?”

“No,” Robert grunted as he speared a piece of braised duck with his fork. Aside from the few moments where he'd evidently enjoyed the quips about Stannis, he'd been rather in poor spirits this evening, possibly because the only serving girl in sight was a homely creature that even Robert would have no pleasure in flirting with. Cersei, it seemed, was rather successful in making sure that every serving girl or chambermaid who found her way into Robert's bed was quickly dismissed.

“And the prince?” Renly asked, truly scraping the bottom of the barrel for conversation. “His arm is well now?”

Robert nodded, his jowls wobbling. “Cersei’ll never forgive the girl, but the arm’s fine.” He sighed heavily, leaning back against his chair and giving the hint of a smile. “Should have known that girl of Ned’s would be a little wild. She’s got Lyanna’s look, you know.”

Renly raised an eyebrow. He thought back to the little girl who had been bold enough to swing a stick at the crown prince. It had been hard to judge her look when she’d been so covered in dirt, but he’d seen her once or twice about the keep, usually running wild, and he hadn’t thought her anything special there either. It was her sister who was the comely one.

“But Lyanna was beautiful,” he argued, turning back to Robert. He paused uncomfortably. “Wasn’t she?” He didn’t think he’d ever seen the girl that should have been his good sister, and if he had, she had certainly long faded from his memory. When he imagined her now, all he could summon was a faceless girl with long dark hair, being thrown over a horse by a man with locks of silver and a breastplate studded with rubies.

“She was,” Robert agreed, a faraway look coming to his face as was usual when he thought back on the apparently lovely Lyanna. “More beautiful than any.”

Renly just nodded. Perhaps the scrawny little girl of Ned Stark’s would grow into her looks, he thought. And even if she didn’t, it would seem that she’d always have an admirer in Robert.

 

* * *

 

 

It was only later that an idea began to form in Renly's mind and grinning, he looked over at Loras, sat next to him on the veranda that led from Loras' chambers. Loras, however, didn't look back. Sat half-turned away from Renly, his attention was elsewhere, gazing almost absent-mindedly at the inky sky above them. It was odd, Renly thought, how Loras and he could sit together quietly without the uncomfortable silence that had been there with Robert earlier, but whilst he was glad of the fact that he and Loras didn't need to constantly make conversation, right now he rather wanted his attention.

"Loras," he said quietly, hushing his voice. Evening had long fallen, but little birds, he knew, weren’t deterred by the dark. It was risky enough to sit out together in the first place despite the darkness and despite the fact that they were doing little more than sharing a cup of wine, and Renly had only allowed it because, uncomfortable as it was to admit, he didn’t think now that Varys' little birds could uncover any secrets that the eunuch didn’t already know.

Loras turned around at the sound of his voice. "Yes?" he asked and for a moment Renly quite forgot what he'd been about to say, so beautiful did Loras look with his hair set ashine by moonlight.

"I've been thinking, Loras," he said eventually, shaking his head slightly so that he might regain his focus.

"Thinking?" Loras interrupted, a smirk toying at his lips. “Sounds dangerous.”

Renly rolled his eyes. “Be quiet,” he said, “Anyway, I was thinking about Margaery and Robert.”

Loras grew visibly sullen. “What of it?” he asked warily, picking up his cup of wine and staring moodily down at it.

“Well do you think Margaery is anything like Lyanna Stark?”

Loras frowned. “King Robert’s betrothed?” He shrugged. “How would I know? Probably not, not if Lyanna was half as boring as her brother.”

Renly chuckled. Eddard Stark was indeed dull, so dull in fact that he made the perfect Hand of the King. As to why he was Robert's most favoured companion, Renly could only begin to clutch at straws. "I didn't mean in character," he protested. "I meant her look. Maybe Margaery might resemble her a little?”

Loras wrinkled his nose. "And why would you think that?"

"Well, Lyanna had brown hair...Margaery has brown hair.... It's not impossible.”

“Yes, and both me and Ser Guyard wear green," Loras said dryly. "I do hope you’ll be able to tell us apart.”

Renly laughed rather fondly, and tucked one of Loras' curls behind his ear. “Ah, so that’s why I inexplicably found myself in Ser Guyard’s bedchamber the other day,” he whispered, grinning. "I had previously thought that you'd merely improved considerably between the sheets."

Loras smiled mockingly at him and rolled his eyes.

“But being serious now,” Renly pressed, taking his hand and squeezing it. “I’m sure Robert would be a lot more interested if it were said that your sister resembles Lyanna. He's fickle like that. Have you a portrait of Margaery somewhere?”

“Possibly,” Loras said dismissively.

Renly raised an eyebrow. “Do you?” He gave Loras a gentle nudge. "Or don't you?"

“Fine,” Loras sighed. “I’ve a locket with a painting in it somewhere. It was done for her fourteenth name day though, so she might have changed a little.” Looking thoroughly unimpressed, he rose, returning inside.

There was the sound of him rooting around loudly in drawers before Renly followed him in, aware that he wouldn't be able to see the painting well enough in the dark. He found Loras still bent over his chest of drawers and playfully, he gave Loras' arse a gentle slap as he waited for the locket to be found. Needless to say, Loras remained unimpressed, and whipping round to glare at him briefly, he muttered sullenly under his breath as he continued his search.

It took a while, and yet eventually, under a huge pile of letters from the girl herself that Renly couldn't believe the magnitude of, a small rose gold locket was pulled out and passed to him. Smiling, Renly inspected it. It was made very much in Margaery's likeness, and beautiful, in the Myrish style, nobody who laid eyes on either it or its subject could hardly have denied that Margaery was as lovely as summer itself.

“It’s beautiful,” Renly sighed, “But I dare say Lyanna Stark can’t have been half as pretty as your sister.” He traced her face with a fingertip. “She’s lovelier than can be.”

"First Ser Guyard and now my sister," Loras grumbled. "You can toss yourself off this evening."

Renly laughed and slid a hand under Loras' chin to force it up. "As you like," he chuckled, bending to give him a brief kiss that wasn't wanted in the slightest. Rolling his eyes as Loras tried to turn his face away, he gave him a less than gentle push instead and sent him sprawling back onto the bed behind him. "Suit yourself," he laughed.

Loras merely shrugged and rolled over onto his front, blowing his hair out of his face. He was evidently in no mood for fun and games so Renly left him there, sitting down on a chair and slipping the locket into a pocket in the lining of his cloak. He’d corner Ned Stark later to pester him on the resemblance and hopefully the lord of Winterfell would be more forthcoming than Loras was being.

Sighing, he turned back to the sulking child which Loras was apparently intent on being whenever Margaery and Robert were mentioned in the same sentence. "Loras?" he tried gently.

"What?"

"Do you think you would be able to persuade Margaery to come up for the Hand’s tourney?”

“No,” Loras said shortly. Still lying on his stomach, he almost glared up at Renly.

"Why not?" Renly pressed, disappointed. Biting back a sigh, he came over to the bed, sitting down beside Loras and touching a hand to his hair.

"Because I've already asked, not for your vile purposes though. She’s gone instead with father to the Arbour.” He frowned. “I’m jealous. I’ve never been.”

Seeing that Loras was turning the bad mood Renly had put him in on something else, Renly swooped in and grasped the opportunity with both hands. Knotting a hand in Loras' hair to anchor him in place, he twisted to kiss the pout off his lips.

“Well we’ll go together sometime,” he smiled. “We could see the Summer Isles too whilst we were at it. For now though, I suppose Margaery shall have to enjoy the vintage gold without us.” Stretching out on the bed too, he stroked a hand softly down Loras' side, unsurprised that Loras rolled over onto his back as willingly as a dog that wanted its tummy tickled. His moods never lasted long, where Renly was concerned at least, and Renly reckoned that this one had already blown itself out. Indeed, Loras was smiling when he next looked down, his eyes blissfully closed as Renly traced firm circles across his chest and stomach with his fingers.

“I wish she were coming though,” he said, arching his back under Renly's touch. “She would adore my armour.”

Renly wished she were coming too, but for reasons that he wasn't about to voice. He knew that bringing up Robert and Margaery would only set Loras off again and he didn't much fancy having to unruffle Loras' feathers for a second time this evening. “Will _I_ adore your armour?” he laughed instead.

“Of course."

“Do I get to see it yet then?” Renly asked hopefully. It had been weeks and weeks since he'd caught sight of the designs for Loras' armour, and yet still, he'd heard no more news of it. Whether it was finished, or still in Tobho Mott's shop, Renly had no idea. He'd been asking for weeks but to no avail.

“Of course not.”

Renly just laughed. Apparently, he'd have to wait till the tourney like everyone else before he was allowed to see this armour.

 

* * *

 

 

It took Renly a while to corner the Lord of Winterfell and he seemed a little bemused when Renly pulled him aside as they came out of a small council meeting one afternoon.

“Lord Renly?” he questioned, a hand hovering instinctively at his sword-belt. He looked a little suspicious and Renly wanted to roll his eyes and point out that it wasn't Littlefinger or Varys who was cornering him after a meeting.

“I wanted to show you something,” he said instead. Without waiting for Stark to agree, he drew the locket from his pocket and opened it. He handed it carefully over, drawing Stark further into the alcove so that any spies of Varys' wandering inadvertently by might not see. “Does she remind you of anyone?”

Lord Stark looked at it for a while, turning it over once or twice in his hand before shrugging a little apologetically. “No Lord Renly. Why do you ask?”

Renly couldn’t hide his disappointment. “Well there are some who say she looks a little like your late sister, my Lord Hand.” He looked down at the man from the North a little hopefully.

“Like Lyanna?” Ned Stark seemed a little bemused. He looked at it again.

“Yes,” Renly persisted. “Is there not a passing resemblance perhaps?”

“No,” Lord Stark told him with a regretful shake of his head. “None at all.”

Renly just sighed, taking the locket back from Eddard Stark's outstretched hand in defeat. As far as he was concerned, there ought to have been at least a _passing_ resemblance. After all, how different could two high born girls with long brown hair look?

He pondered on the matter long and hard, even after he and Loras had long turned in for the night, the candles snuffed out and his bedchamber silent except for their breathing.

“Maybe if we dressed her up in grey?” he suggested to Loras, sitting up slightly in the darkness. “With a fur trim? She might be a little hot here in the capital, but it wouldn’t be for long…”

Loras just groaned. “Just give it a rest won’t you Renly?” Rolling away from him, he put a pillow over his head and Renly knew he was dismissed.


	115. Chapter 115

Renly enjoyed tourneys, he always did, but he didn’t think he’d ever looked forward to one as much as he did to this one. The weeks had seemed to drag by, the days seeming to linger with each rise of the moon and small council meetings under Eddard Stark even more dull than they’d been under Jon Arryn. It seemed to Renly that Lord Stark left no stone unturned. Everything and everyone was taken seriously, even useless time-wasters like Janos Slynt who Renly would have sent packing if he'd been in the Hand's shoes. Often, Renly had thought he might go mad with boredom, nothing to stare at except Littlefinger’s smug face and Stark’s humourless one.

The day of the tourney dawned bright and glorious though, despite Renly’s fear that it would never arrive, and he rose early to prepare himself, sheltering from the early morning sun in the black and gold pavilion that his men had raised for him the day before. His armour lay on the table and Renly admired it proudly, anxious to wear it again. Still new as the green plate was, he’d had Alyn polish it last night anyway, regardless of that fact that there was already such a shine on it that Renly could have used it as a mirror.

He smiled as Alyn armoured him, the sound of his squire's fingers on soft leather and hard buckles rather satisfying. He’d received many envious glances when he’d worn the magnificent plate to escort Robert back to King’s Landing, but Renly imagined that even those longing stares would be nothing compared to how mad the smallfollk would go for him. Always a firm favourite with the crowds, this tourney, Renly thought he might be more popular than even Loras with his roses. His green armour with its golden antlers would not easily be forgotten.

“It’s magnificent, my lord,” Alyn said as he fastened the last buckle and stood back as if to admire his handiwork.

“ _I’m_ magnificent is surely what you mean to say,” Renly laughed. He took a proud step forward. Alyn had had a mirror brought into his tent this very morning and Renly admired himself in it, picking up a jewelled comb to run through his hair. He _was_ magnificent and whilst Loras had refused to give an inch when Renly had once again asked him yesterday to describe his new armour, Renly was quite sure he would be the most magnificent man on the field, even if Loras would probably be the victor.

Grinning, he told Alyn as much.

“Yes, my lord,” Alyn agreed with a smile. “Though I’m told Ser Loras’ new armour is beyond spectacular too.”

Renly whipped round, the jewelled comb still in his fingers. “What would you know of Loras’ armour?” he asked. “Loras won’t even tell me the slightest detail about it. Nobody has even _glimpsed_ that armour yet, except Tobho Mott and Loras himself.”

Alyn laughed, leaning up to fasten a heavy cloak about Renly's shoulders. “That’s not true, my lord. And you know it.”

Renly raised an eyebrow. “No?”

“No, my lord. He’ll have been fitted for it several times.”

“And what of it?”

Alyn visibly almost rolled his eyes. “Well,” he sighed, “It’s not like Ser Loras would ever armour _himself_ is it?”

Renly shrugged. “He might.”

Alyn raised an eyebrow. He seemed sceptical.

“What?” Renly laughed. 

“Have you ever put your own armour on my lord?”

“Well no,”

“Do you even know _how_ to put your own armour on?”

Renly thought on it, glancing down at his armour, intricately fitted together and fastened with fiddly straps and laces that seemed to go this way and that without reason. “Probably not,” he admitted. “But Loras would. He’s not me you know.”

“I’m sure he would,” Alyn laughed, “But there’s a large difference between knowing and doing, my lord, and I can promise you that fiddling with buckles and fastenings falls to the squire.” He smiled. “And Tommas Fossoway’s mouth is looser than your purse strings when it comes to how proud of his cousin he is, even if he is a little terrified of him.”

Renly hadn’t thought of the squire. Unfortunately for poor Tommas Fossoway, he was a forgettable sort of boy, diligent and rather decent with a sword for his age but rather mousey in both his appearance and his character. Stood always in Loras' shadow, he faded into non-existence behind him and it was always easy to forget he was there. “Fair,” Renly admitted. “So tell me, what does he say of this armour?”

“That it’s beautiful, Renly. Wrought with jewels and flowers. But apparently it’s the cloak that he shall stun the crowd with.”

Renly sighed. “Rather vague,” he lamented. Thinking to himself, he grinned, “Have him fetched won’t you. The Fossoway boy, not Loras. And don't go yourself, have one of my guards' squires go, one that Loras won't recognise. Tell him to lie or something, tell him that the herald wants to have words about the draw or something.” He would question the boy himself. 

Alyn looked a little exasperated but he disappeared anyway, returning momentarily and telling him that he'd sent Ser Andrew's squire. It didn't take him long and soon Tommas Fossoway appeared in the door flap of his tent, looking about himself a little nervously as he realised that this wasn't the herald's tent at all. 

"My lord," he whispered, spying Renly. "I'm sorry for intruding. They've brought me to the wrong place."

Renly laughed, turning to face him. "No, I sent for you."

"You did, my lord?" He was cowering slightly.

Smiling, Renly bent down to look at him. “Don't fret. I’m not going to hurt you boy. I just want you to tell me a little of Ser Loras’ armour.”

“I’m not supposed to, my lord," he squeaked. "Ser Loras told me _specifically_ …”

Renly grinned, smiling from ear to ear. “Told you specifically what?”

The tent flap was flung open. “…that he wasn’t to say a word to pesky lords from the Stormlands who won’t mind their own business,” Loras finished for him. Raising an eyebrow, he picked his squire up by his collar and almost hurled him from the tent before he turned his scathing glare on Renly. "The herald sent for him? Really Renly? I'd have thought you a better liar than that. The herald doesn't even do the draw, he just reads it out."

Renly laughed, running a hand guiltily through his hair. Unable to find a decent retort, he looked Loras up and down instead. He was armoured already, almost fully, a missing gauntlet the only sign that he’d been interrupted. The plate was beautiful, enamelled with the bouquets of a thousand different flowers, but Renly didn't find himself quite swooning over its beauty.

 _“Is that it?_ ” Renly chuckled. He glanced sideways at Alyn for support. “I mean it’s pretty, but it’s hardly magnificent. Please tell me _this_ isn't what you've been guarding so secretly?"

“Well luckily for you it isn't,” Loras told him smugly. “I shall wear that set for the finals.” He sniffed, wrinkling his nose. "I don't want to wear it in the first few rounds. They'll be hedge knights there, Renly, and Freys. And _dornishmen_. 

Renly stared at him. "You had _two_ sets of armour made for one tourney?" He was astonished, amazed that Loras had thought of it first.

"Of course I did," Loras smirked. "Only a peasant would wear the same set for both the first rounds and the finals don't you think?" He glanced at Renly's own armour, his gaze full of disdain that Renly knew wasn't real.

“What if you don’t reach the finals?” Renly teased. He was only vaguely aware of Alyn looking amused beside him. 

Unimpressed, Loras gave him a rough shove. He put a lot of force into it and Renly had to take a few steps backwards, colliding with the fabric of the tent. He was lucky that Loras hadn’t pushed him any harder, or else he’d have probably brought the elegant black and gold tent down under his weight.

“What was that for?” Renly laughed.

“To show you up in front of your squire,” Loras told him dryly. “Show him how much of a weakling you are.”

“Oh,” Renly raised an eyebrow. “Am I supposed to be embarrassed?” He grinned idly at Loras. He knew that when it came to a show of strength, he'd always win. Loras was strong for his frame but he didn't have the power that Renly's tall and broad build gave him. 

Loras shrugged. “That was the aim.”

“Well you’re out of luck, I’m not embarrassed,”

“No?” Loras’ brow furrowed before he stepped forward towards Renly, fingers brushing the green metalwork against his chest in a warning. He kissed him before Renly could escape, hands tangling in Renly’s hair as he tried to pull away, anchoring him there like a ship against the current. It was hardly a kiss, more of a desperate struggle between he and Loras, but it had Loras' desired effect regardless. Renly felt his cheeks turn red as he felt Alyn's eyes on them.

“What about now,” Loras smirked when Renly finally managed to push him off him. “Embarrassed now?”

 Renly just sighed and glanced apologetically at his squire. "Ser Loras will be taking his leave now, Alyn." He looked back at Loras. "Won't you?"

"Of course Renly," Loras grinned. Patting him on the shoulder with a metallic clang, he strode out, triumphant.

 

* * *

 

Taken aback as he was, Alyn seemed to have recovered enough to prepare Renly's horse for the parade before the king, tacking it up with the leather saddle and bridle he'd polished last night. The horse too had been made to shine, its bay flanks gleaming in the sunlight as Renly put one armoured foot in the stirrups to mount.

"You and Ser Loras weren't actually arguing earlier, my lord?" Alyn asked quietly as he handed him up the reins.

Renly felt his cheeks flush again. "No," he laughed a little uncomfortably. "Just bickering. Why?"

"Because they say Ser Loras' temper is unbearable when the pair of you argue."

Renly groaned. "Do they?" he sighed, "Well no we weren't arguing. Just teasing."

"Good," Alyn laughed. He patted the mare's neck and rearranged Renly's cloak across her withers. "Now go, my lord, the procession is starting."

Renly managed a smile and pushed his mare on. There was no set order to the procession, save that the Kingsguard led it, and Renly fell into place behind Jaime Lannister, thinking that he deserved a place at the front. Indeed, he thought he looked quite majestic behind them, the white of their kingsguard cloaks making his green plate seem all the more vibrant. Together they cantered about the fence, the herald calling their name as they rode by Robert.

 _Ser Barristan Selmy, Barristan the Bold and Lord Commander of the Kingsguard_ , he called. _Followed by Ser Jaime Lannister the Young Lion, Ser Arys Oakheart, Ser Boros Blount, Ser Mandon Moore, Ser Preston Greenfield and Ser Meryn Trant._ Whilst all elegant in their heavy white cloaks, Renly grudgingly had to admit that the Kingslayer was the finest of them all. In plate of gold beneath his snowy cloak, he wore a lion head's helm and Renly wondered if it were Tobho Mott who had fashioned it.

Renly waved to the crowds when it was his turn, saluting to Robert and Cersei as  _Lord Renly Baratheon of Storm's End_ rang out across the lists to great cheers. Turning slightly in his saddle, he watched as others after him were called. _Lord Beric Dondarrion of Blackhaven, the Lightning Lord_ was next, the thunderbolt vivid on his shield as his red hair blew in the breeze. Then  _Sandor Clegane, the Hound, and Ser Gregor Clegane, the Mountain that Rides,_ both wearing a scowl, no doubt unimpressed to have been called together.  _Thoros of Myr_ was next, his red cape billowing behind him, before  _Ser Balon Swann of Stonehelm,_ and finally the name that Renly's ears were pricked for.

 _Ser Loras Tyrell of Highgarden,_ the herald boomed, _The Knight of Flowers._

Renly turned to see him and his breath was almost taken away. His curls fluttering in the wind, Loras was a flurry of red and white petals. A heavy blanket of roses lay across his white stallion. Each bloom more delicate than a maiden's kiss, he sat atop a field of ruby red and snowy white that swirled about him as he cantered behind Balon Swann. The crowds were gasping for him and Renly threw a smile in his direction, their eyes meeting as they shared a smile. 

Renly barely noticed the rest of the competitors ride by, he only had eyes for Loras. Indeed, when he finally tore his eyes away, the last dribs and drabs of the parade were filing past, shabby northern men who looked more out of place in the capital than even Jalabhar Xho did, that exiled prince from the Summer Isles whose skin was as black as night.

It was him that Renly was first called against, and he just about had time to watch Ser Aryn Oakheart meet his fate against Loras before Alyn was passing him up his lance. Prince or not, he fell easily, Renly's lance catching him in the chest. With his cape of green and scarlet feathers, he rather looked like a rather exotic bird who’d never learnt to fly as he was thrown from his mount.

As glorious of large tourneys were though, it did mean there was a lot of waiting around between tilts, and as soon as Alyn had disposed of his lance for him and led away his horse so that it could be tied up in the shade with the girth loosened, Renly sought out Loras. He found him smiling, milling around at the edge of the gallery with his cousins, Horror and Slobber. Quite why he was smiling, Renly had no idea, for he was well aware that Loras was about as fond of the Redwyne twins as Renly was of his brothers. He quickly found out why though when Loras pulled him quickly aside.

"Piggy's been sent to the wall apparently," he laughed, all their bickering from earlier apparently forgotten. "Horas and Hobber told me. It's said that Tarly couldn't bear the thought of him inheriting Horn Hill so much that he gave him a choice between a subtle knife in the back and the Night's Watch."

Renly thought that a shame for the fat Tarly boy but he chuckled along with Loras seeing as Loras seemed so amused by it. Horas and Hobber, it seemed, had much news from the Reach and the tourney was into the second round by the time that Renly could pull him surreptitiously away so that they could be on their own. 

It was Ser Gregor's turn to take to the lists now and Renly watched him, torn between awe and fear. “You know Loras,” Renly remarked as they were cast into shadow by him. “I always forget how big he is. I think of myself as a large man, and yet he must be taller than the mighty Wall itself.”

“Hmm,” Loras agreed. “Won't be so mighty now that Piggy's guarding it though." He looked back at Gregor Clegane. "But yes, it’s a wonder he doesn’t break his horse’s back.”

They watched absent-mindedly as he mounted, at the other end of the lists from where they were standing. His opponent was a knight from the Vale, an ugly boy who neither Renly nor Loras could put a name to. He wore crescent moons on blue and he had an arrogant air about him which screamed to Renly that he’d just been knighted.

It was evident even then who was going to emerge the victor and neither of them bothered to really watch. It was only when they heard the commons' collective gasp that they looked up. Several women were screaming and Renly frowned as he tried to see what was going on. The Mountain had reached the end of the lists but the boy was on the ground, sprawled out in the dust. He wasn’t moving even then but it wasn’t until a few squires ran across with a litter to carry him off that Renly realised he was dead, his head lolling to one side as they lifted him. The ground beneath him was stained a dark red and as the litter was brought by them, Renly saw that the tip of Ser Gregor’s lance was embedded in the knight's neck. 

Blood was still spurting from his open throat and running too from his mouth, dribbling down his chin and staining the fabric of the litter. It was dire to watch and Renly turned away, wrinkling his nose. The smell of death hung heavy in the air and Renly was glad when the body was taken away into a tent where no doubt the silent sisters would be fetched to deal with the corpse.

“Poor boy,” he said to Loras as several squires covered the blooded ground with dirt, spades in hand. “Horrible way to go. Choking on your own blood like that.” He winced slightly at the thought of it, imagining the metallic taste on his tongue.

Loras though shrugged, unsympathetic. “He shouldn’t have entered the tourney if he didn’t know how to joust.”

“Easy for you to say,” Renly sighed with a sad glance back at the patch of churned up ground that was still slightly red. “Not everyone is so gifted.”

Loras rolled his eyes. “It’s not a gift. No-one gave it to me. I’m good because I work at it. Every day since I could hold a stick.”

It was true, Loras _did_ work at it every day, but Renly was not consoled. “I could work at jousting all day every day and I’d still never be as good as you.”

Loras raised an eyebrow. “Yes, well I guess we’ll never know,” he said lightly, gaze meeting his eye pointedly.

Renly didn't argue and Loras soon proved how gifted- or perhaps hard working as Loras would have it- he was in his second tilt. Whoever had done the draw must evidently have not been too fond of the Kingsguard, for after Ser Arys’ rather embarrassing fall to Loras in the first round, Ser Meryn was next, Loras’ lance visibly scratching the white shield and leaving a scar across it. With his cloak dirtied by the dust, Ser Meryn looked put-out as Loras handed a white rose to a small girl in the commons. 

Renly, meanwhile, was drawn against a hedge knight, from Highgarden of all places. He rode a dull cob- its legs stocky and its back broad, carried a chipped shield, wore a flea-bitten cloak, and Loras told him that if he fell to such a competitor he would never look upon him proudly again.

Thankfully, Renly saw his opponent off in the first pass, and not without adding a few more dents to his shield. In the third round, however, he wasn’t so lucky, and even Loras looked a little sorry for him as Renly mounted his horse and turned it to face the Hound.

The crowds were roaring in his ears and yet all Renly could hear was his own heart, thumping loudly over the din. Whilst not as big as his murderous brother, the Hound looked huge even from a distance and Renly fought to keep his mount from skittering underneath him. He put his best smile on for his spectators though, and it was with a laugh and a cheery salute at Robert that he put on his helm. He did, however, find find himself checking that his gorget was securely in place before accepting the lance Alyn passed up to him. 

His nerves subsided somehow as he pushed his horse into a gallop, the thrill of the competition taking over from the assured knowledge that soon he'd be in the dirt. Indeed, he'd barely had time to draw another breath before the Hound’s lance hit him square in the chest and suddenly his saddle no longer seemed solid beneath him. The crowd still cheering, the air was whistling past his ears, the ground hurtling towards him at break-neck speed.

He hit the ground with an audible crack, pain shooting down his neck and through his back as a gasp rang out from the crowd. Several women were screaming again, and a little dazed, Renly got to his feet to see what the fuss was all about, his head pounding. Glancing around, he could see that several of the ladies looked pained, hands over their mouths, with one poor girl, sat next to the elder Stark child, peeking out through the gaps in her fingers. He looked around for Loras, and was surprised to see him out of his seat too, his face ashen even from a distance.

The fuss evidently had something to do with him and looking down, Renly realised what. One of his antlers, beautifully polished by Alyn that very morning, lay in the dirt, snapped off by the force of his fall. That, Renly supposed, explained the noise when he’d landed and it was clear from the looks on faces in the gallery that many had thought it was his neck instead.

Pain shot through his back again as Renly bent to pick up the broken antler. Smiling though, he presented it to the Hound as he passed, sweeping himself into a bow. He was met with a grunt, and unimpressed, Sandor Clegane hurled the delicate piece of gold into the commons.

The smallfolk were more impressed with the gift and there was a great kerfuffle as men and women alike struggled to get their hands on the broken antler. Renly laughed as he watched them, reminded of how the girls at balls fell over themselves to get a dance with him. As the scramble continued though, arms and legs flailing everywhere, Renly supposed he should intervene. It was with a wide grin that he strode out amongst them. The smallfolk seemed desperate to touch him and Renly didn’t even care about the dirty fingerprints rapidly appearing across the sheen of his armour as eager hands were pressed against his breastplate. They quietened in his presence, like tamed beasts, and Renly reached into a pouch in his cloak for his moneybag, scattering coins among them before returning to collect his horse.

As disappointing as it was to be knocked out of the tournament, Renly was glad enough to take his place in the gallery. With his moneybag now heavy in his pocket, he didn’t waste any time in laying a few bets. Unfortunately he was too far from the royal pavilion to reap easily won money from Robert but there was no shortage of other men who fancied putting their fortunes into the gods’ hands. He won twenty gold dragons backing Loras to take down his third Kingsguard in a row, and another fourty when Ser Guyard rode down his fourth Frey, but lost it all back when, on a whim, he suddenly decided that Lord Bryce Caron, one of his bannermen, was certainly capable of besting Jaime Lannister.

All in all, his bannermen and their sons did not fare particularly well, Renly thought to himself. Ser Balon Swann fell to the Mountain, Red Ronnet to Lothor Brune and Ser Narbert Grandison to a hedge knight from the Fingers. Ser Guyard, meanwhile, acquitted himself well, even after the herald ran out of Freys to send him, making his way to the sixth round before he was unhorsed violently by one of the few remaining Kingsguard that Loras hadn’t dealt with. Even Lord Beric was unfortunate enough to have his horse run through by the lance of the same hedge knight who had seen to Ser Narbert, and whilst squires quickly ran to help him shift his saddle to a new horse, they needn’t have bothered, for Thoros of Myr sent him crashing into the dirt in his very next tilt.

Dusk had fallen by the time the competitors had been whittled down to six. Renly was proud to see Loras easily amongst them and he cheered like the rest of the crowd as Loras and Ser Robar Royce took to the lists- two younger sons willing to fight for their place in the semi-finals.

Neither man looked nervous as they mounted and yet Renly thought Ser Robar ought to have done. They rode at each other fiercely despite the growing darkness, the blanket of roses across Loras’ stallion flying out behind him like a skein of red and white silk, the roses reduced to flashes of colour as they tore past.

Ser Robar’s shield split under the force of Loras’ lance, splintering into a thousand pieces as he was driven from his horse. He hit the ground with a deafening thump, the ancient runes on his armour twinkling in the dimming light. His moaning was just audible over the clatter of Loras’ stallion’s hooves and for once Renly didn’t watch Loras’ celebratory circle of the fence to give out another one of his roses. His eyes were still on the youngest Royce, still unmoving on the floor. Soon, a litter was brought for poor Robar, the second knight from the Vale that day to be carried off, although thankfully the second son of Lord Yohn Royce appeared merely dazed. Renly didn't think he'd have been at all pleased by the prospects of two deaths in one day, especially one at Loras' hands.

It was only when the litter had disappeared that Renly glanced to Loras. His gaze was met instantly and Loras seemed very unimpressed that his attention had evidently been elsewhere. He looked almost scathingly back at Renly and Renly knew Loras would probably have him bending over for him this evening to make up for his lapse in attention.

Still though, Renly smiled rather sheepishly back at him. The smile was wiped off his face though when Loras’ stallion stopped before him. A smug smile on his lips, he reached to pluck a rose from the blanket across his stallion and Renly rolled his eyes as he saw it was a red one. Usually, he saved the coveted red rose for the final tilt and Renly sighed as Loras bent with the stem in between his fingers, no doubt set on bestowing it right under his very nose just to annoy him. 

The girl chosen was Sansa Stark, whether because she was beautiful or because she’d happened to be sitting below Renly in the gallery, Renly didn’t know. It was clearly a gesture to drive him mad with jealousy though and Loras caught his eye as the Stark girl took the rose, daring him to acknowledge his mounting envy.

“Sweet lady,” he said, eyes barely on her, busy as they were looking mischievously up at Renly. “No victory is as beautiful as you.”

Renly thought he might gag.


	116. Chapter 116

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the huge delay in everything I'm writing! I got an internship that I wasn't expecting to get, which I've had to go abroad for. Unfortunately I've had absolutely no free time! It finishes though at the end of June, so updates should return to normal then :)

For once, the feast that always accompanied a tourney was held on the banks of the river and Renly felt rather grateful for this as he took his seat at one of the many benches that sat at the water's edge. What had previously been a spark of pain in his neck had been fanned into a roaring flame, and just the thought of having to ride all the way back to the Red Keep for the feast made Renly wince and reach out for the wine.

Indeed, he felt rather too stiff to move, and if it hadn’t been for Alyn and the many serving girls piling food high upon Renly’s plate, he didn’t think he’d have managed much at all, for even leaning into the centre of the table sent jolts of pain shooting down his arm and into his neck and shoulder. The pain seemed to have dulled his appetite too, and Renly didn’t even find that he enjoyed the food as much as he ought to have done. The tables were heavily laden with all kinds of extravagant delicacies and yet Renly found he had little interest in any of it- not the food, not the music, not even the rather humorous attempts Joffrey was making at wooing his betrothed. And with Loras sat at the far end of the adjoining table where there wasn’t even a chance of speaking to him or even catching his eye, Renly really would have rathered skip the feast altogether.

Robert, however, seemed to be enjoying the feast enough for the both of them. He was the life and soul of the party, and each cup of wine was drained with a laugh more raucous than the last. He was in impossibly high spirits, and Renly guessed he probably should have known it wasn’t to last. He’d barely noticed Robert and his queen talking in the earlier courses, but he couldn’t fail to hear them now.

“No!” Robert roared. He’d wobbled to his feet and his voice made the entire company startle in alarm, Renly himself included. There was a sudden clangour as everyone dropped their knives and forks and then silence. Renly was among them in that silence, but he wished that everyone would have merely ignored their king, ignored the way he was making a fool of himself and simply carried on with their meal.

It wasn’t to be though, and Renly just sighed as Robert continued his verbal onslaught. “You do not tell me what to do, woman,” he was bellowing, his fist closing angrily around his cup of wine as if he were about to dowse Cersei’s bloodless face with it. “I am king here, do you understand? I rule here, and if I say that I will fight tomorrow, I will fight!”

Renly watched on in silence. Robert was talking about the melee, and clearly he didn’t see the folly in his own words. Kings had no place in melees. It was known, and Renly thought that the large majority of competitors would flee from him before risking striking the king down, and those that did dare to land a blow would probably be doing it on Cersei’s orders. Renly didn’t like to think how much the queen would relish a turn of events where Robert tragically met his end at a misplaced swing from the Mountain, leaving Joffrey to rule in his stead. Or her stead, Renly thought bitterly, because it was clear to him that Joffrey did nothing but help weave his mother’s poisonous web.

Well two could play at web weaving, Renly thought to himself gleefully as Cersei rose with an expression that could have been carved from ice and swept away. He was tempted to rise and seize the opportunity to whisper a few words of his own in Robert’s ear, soft words that would speak of a young maiden who would never dream of forbidding her king from fighting in the melee. He would have done so too, if Jaime Lannister hadn’t got their first.

Evidently brave, the Kingslayer was attempting to lay a hand on Robert’s shoulder, probably in an attempt to calm the enraged king down. It was poorly judged though, and Renly had to bite back a laugh as Robert sent Jaime sprawling to the ground.

Robert, however, didn’t bite back his laughter. “The great knight,” he said, raising a mocking toast to the man on the ground that made Renly chuckle. “I can still knock you in the dirt. Remember that Kingslayer.” He slapped his chest with the heavy jewelled goblet, ruining his beautiful tunic, which had before been magnificent in black and gold despite straining over his belly. “Give me my hammer and not a man in the realm can stand before me!”

“As you say,” Jaime said dryly as he picked himself up off the ground, brushing the dust from his white cloak. He evidently disagreed and Renly was tempted to concur. Robert had been a god amongst men in his young days, but stood now, at the head of a table in what was essentially a muddy field next to the river, clad in a wine-stained tunic no less, Renly thought it a shame to call him king.

Sighing, he rose, doing his best to ignore the sharp pain in his shoulder that the movement brought on. He supposed someone ought to calm Robert, and he’d have as good a chance as anyone in the absence of Ned Stark.

He forced a smile as he approached, Alyn warily on his heels. “You’ve spilled your wine, Robert,” he told him mildly, gesturing to the empty cup, the contents of which were splashed down Robert’s chest. “Let me get you a fresh goblet.”

Robert merely grunted, pushing Renly’s hands away with very unsteady hands. “Leave me be,” he slurred.

Renly didn’t bother trying again, and when Robert stumbled blindly off, barely putting one foot in front of the other, Renly let Barristan Selmy chase after him instead. He'd much rather spend the rest of his evening with Loras than with his brother, especially when Robert seemed set on swaggering across the nearby fields in a drunken stupor, where he'd probably get himself stuck in a ditch. 

Loras was surrounded by men from the Reach when Renly spotted him still among the quickly emptying benches, deep in conversation with cousins and sons of his father’s bannermen who had journeyed north for the tourney. It took Renly several minutes to catch his eye, and even then he was met with a very slight shake of the head, which Renly took rather irritably to mean _later_. Usually, Renly might have struck up a few conversations of his own, to pass the time and wait for him, but the pain in his neck and shoulder was only worsening with the longer he stood. 

He turned gingerly to his squire, one hand going to his neck to rub the sore spot. “Come on then,” he sighed, “Let us head back up to the castle.”

Alyn glanced back at the crowd of men, many of whom wore green and gold. “Aren’t we waiting for Ser Loras?”

“No,” Renly said, biting back a sigh. “He’ll be there a while. He does so love being told of what’s going on back at home. You'd never know that he'd spent half of his boyhood in the Stormlands. He's a knight of the Reach through and through.”

 Alyn just smiled.

 

* * *

 

 

The ride back to the Red Keep was agony, and Renly felt every jolt of the road under his horse’s feet, every slight bump and stone. He groaned as Alyn helped him dismount, grateful to be back on his feet instead of on a horse's back. 

“Do you need a maester?” Alyn asked as he caught sight of his face in the moonlight. “You look ever so pale.”

“Possibly,” Renly mumbled as he handed the reins over. He hadn't thought much of it when he'd landed awkwardly upon being unhorsed by the Hound and yet now, he wondered whether he ought to have seen a maester then. He had to lean on his squire as he made his way through the Red Keep, and he could do nothing but collapse onto his bed as soon as he was up out of Traitor’s Walk and into his chambers. His head was pounding, his neck was throbbing, and there was an ache in his back that was so painful it wouldn’t go away despite his soft feather mattress.

Alyn returned with a maester shortly. He was an older man, with a big bushy beard that resembled Penrose’s, and Renly was irritated to see that the chain around his neck was rather short. Renly suddenly wished he’d brought his own maester to the Red Keep like so many did. He was not fond of Maester Jurne like he had been of Maester Cressen, but he had no doubts about his skill. He still remembered when Loras had been injured at Bronzegate. Maester Jurne, he thought, had dealt well with him, coping not only with his injuries, but with his temperament. And Loras, of course, was not the easiest of men to handle.

Renly smiled at this new maester regardless, although he feared his attempts manifested themselves as more of a grimace. "I thank you for coming despite the hour," he told him as Alyn led him over to the bed.

“I am happy to be of service," he said, and Renly bit back a sigh as he heard the slow, monotonous tone that old men seemed to want to talk in. "So what appears to be the problem, my lord? Your squire tells me you took a bad fall in a joust.”  
  
"Yes,” Renly agreed, stifling a groan. “It feels like I’ve broken my neck if I'm honest.”

The maester gave a small slow chuckle, a wizened smile despite his short chain coming to his wrinkly face. “I assure you, my lord. You have not broken your neck."

“It bloody feels like I have,” Renly muttered. “I’m so stiff I can barely move, and some invisible man is driving a dagger through my back and shoulders.””

“Ah,” the maester said as he approached. He rolled up the sleeves of his tunic and went to touch him. “May I?”

Renly gave a nod of agreement.

“Your doublet, my lord.”

Renly groaned as he struggled to remove his doublet. He then collapsed back against his bed. The first press of the maester’s examining hands through his smallclothes hurt, and Renly winced, resisting the urge to hiss. He almost wanted to despair when he realised that it wasn’t over, and he squeezed his eyes tightly shut as the maester continued to prod and poke him where he was most sore.

“What are you doing?” he asked, trying to twist his head and then regretting it.

“This will help,” the maester assured him slowly. “I can’t feel any real damage, but your muscles feel quite tight. This will relax them.” He continued without paying any heed to Renly’s grunts of displeasure. And whilst Renly did his best to bear the pain, when the maester dug his fingers into his neck, he couldn’t help but yelp at the agony burning through his body.

“Ah!” Renly cried through gritted teeth, wondering what kind of madman was trying to help him. “Who employs you, you fool?” 

“I serve the Red Keep, my lord,” the maester explained slowly. “But I originally served a lord in the Westerlands, before Lord Arryn took me into service here.”

Renly bit back a groan. _A Westerlands man was he?_ Renly supposed his view of such men was tainted by his dislike of the Lannisters, but he couldn’t help but suspect that all men who came from the west were useless, good-for-nothing cunts. 

Indeed, this maester seemed intent on making Renly suffer for as long as possible, and Renly writhed in pain under his hands, cursing the man silently under his breath. He could see his squire standing by, fighting back tears of laughter. Seeing him so, Renly wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry too.

“Enough!” he eventually choked out. “I’m grateful for your help, but I think I’ve had enough.”

“As you wish, Lord Renly.” The maester took took his hands off Renly’s back with a smile that was still kindly despite the many insults Renly had muttered to him. He drew out a little bottle from one of his sleeves and set it on the bedside table. “Milk of the poppy,” he explained, “for if you struggle to sleep tonight. For really, my lord, you should rest.”

“Yes,” Renly agreed wearily. “I should.”

“I must warn you though. A soft bed is the worst possible thing for a bad back. It’s a hard surface that you want. It won’t feel comfortable, my lord, but I promise you, a few hours on a hard floor, or even a night on it if you can bear it, and you’ll feel better for it come morning.”

Renly groaned. It was one of those pearls of wisdom that he’d heard before though, from maesters wiser than this one. He knew that maester Jurne would say the same, but the thought of leaving his soft bed in favour of a hard floor made him want to pull the covers up over his head and refuse to ever come out.

It took all his will to beckon Alyn to his bedside. “Come then,” he said, “Help me get up.” To his relief, he heard the maester take his leave, and then Alyn was there, grasping his elbow and helping him to his feet.

“Are you actually going to lie on the floor?” Alyn laughed.

Renly shrugged and then regretted it. “You think I should ignore his advice?” he asked through slightly gritted teeth. "Stupid as the man evidently is?"

“No,” Alyn chuckled. “I’m just surprised. I thought you too dignified.”

“ _I_ thought me more dignified,” Renly muttered as he lowered himself down onto the floor. He lay flat on his back and he had to admit, it eased the pain in his shoulder considerably. “But I suppose it’s my own bloody fault for landing on my head.”

Aside from feeling a little silly, Renly found he was quite content laid upon the floor. Flat against the carpets, he started to feel much better, the pain ebbing away slightly to be replaced with a heavy stiffness. Alyn kept him company, and sitting upon a chair beside him, told Renly of his younger brothers back on Greenstone, and how they were jealous of his position as squire to the Lord of Storm's End. It was shameless flattery, Renly thought, and yet it kept him entertained. He was more interested though when Alyn began to speak of Cassana Estermont, a mother who Renly didn't remember. She'd been long dead of course by the time that Alyn had been born, and yet apparently she was still spoken of often at Greenstone and always fondly. It brought an odd feeling to Renly's stomach that was quite different from the ache in his back. He was just thinking a little poignantly on the fact that her name was spoken but rarely within the walls of Storm's End, when there was a knock at the door. 

"It'll be Loras," Renly sighed, feeling a little guilty at how quickly he abandoned all thought of his mother. "Let him in won't you."

Alyn duly went to the door. “Ser Loras,” Renly heard him say.

“Alyn,” Loras returned. “Where’s Renly?”

“Over there, Ser.”

Loras looked down and upon seeing him, cocked his head. “Why are you on the floor?” he asked curiously, nudging Renly with the toe of his boot. 

“He has a bad back,” Alyn explained for him. “From his match against the Hound.”

“Oh,” Loras laughed. He turned to Alyn. “That, boy, was a good lesson for you in how _not_ to joust. Sloppy shield-work. Poor balance. Lance too low. Terrible angle. A nervous horse. The list goes on and on, which is a shame, because he jousted uncharacteristically well in the previous rounds.”

“I’ll take responsibility for the other faults,” Renly protested, trying to sit up despite his pain. “But a _nervous horse?_ You can’t blame me for the nervous horse.”

“Of course I can,” Loras said matter-of-factly. “Nine times out of ten, a nervous horse has a nervous rider.”

Renly rolled his eyes. “I could have died today,” he said irritably. 

“But you didn’t."

“ _Obviously_ I didn’t,” Renly sighed. “But I’m just pointing out that you could be a little sympathetic.”

“I am sympathetic.” Loras took another look at Renly on the floor. “I’ll tell you what, I’ve something in my chambers that will help a little. I’ll be back in a moment.” He didn't wait for Renly to give him his blessing to leave, and like a leaf in a strong wind, he disappeared through the door in a puff of air.

“Gods,” Renly cursed at his back. “You’d think he’d have been a little more concerned.”

Alyn was silent for a few long moments and he only spoke when Renly twisted painfully to look at him. “I think he was, my lord," he said quietly. "You didn’t see his face when you fell and there was that almighty snap. I did."

"And?"

"He was terrified, my lord. More terrified than I've ever seen a man look."

Renly mulled that over. 

“I think your men may have mocked him a little for it,” Alyn added quietly when Renly said nothing. “Once it was clear you were all right, I mean.”

“Oh,” Renly whispered. Deep down, he supposed he was probably aware that Loras was the source of much amusement making amongst his men. When all was said and done after all, the fact remained that Loras was a man who bent over for another man, one who he allowed to fuck him like a maiden. He twisted once more to face Alyn, wishing he were no longer on the floor. "Does Loras retaliate?" he asked quietly, "when my men laugh?"

Alyn shrugged. "Not much. Usually he just scowls, grits his teeth a little and stalks off."

That surprised Renly, and yet he didn't have much time to ponder it, for Loras himself came striding back through the doors, this time with a bottle of purple coloured liquid in his hands. “It’s lavender,” he explained, unnecessarily as soon as he’d got the cork out, for the unmistakable fragrance filled the air. “It’s supposed to ease pain.”

He strolled over and sat down on the floor beside him, legs crossed. He didn’t seem bothered by being seen sat on the floor, and setting the bottle of lavender beside him, he placed a palm on Renly’s chest, his fingers warm through his undershirt.

He twisted slightly to face the door. “I’ll take him from here, Alyn,” he said.

Renly heard the door click softly shut.

“Roll over for me, will you?” he breathed once Alyn’s footsteps had disappeared down the corridor. 

Renly groaned as he acquiesced. The movement jostled his shoulder unbearably and if it had been anyone but Loras who had asked, he might have refused.

“Sore are you?” Loras chuckled, and very gently, he stroked a hand up Renly’s spine.

“Yes,” Renly sighed, “ _very_.”

Loras smiled, his hand warm now against Renly’s troubled shoulder. “Well, shirt off for me please.” He didn’t wait for Renly to do it himself and instead, his hands went immediately to the hem of his undershirt, turning it inside out as he pulled it up over Renly’s back, slowly and steadily until he had the garment around Renly’s shoulders.

“Can you lift your arms?” he asked, both of his hands coming to rest on either side of Renly's neck, cotton still scrunched between his fingers.

Renly tried, and then hissed with the pain. “No,” he groaned. Getting his doublet off had been trouble enough and that had had fastenings at the front. 

“No matter,” Loras sighed, and in one fluid movement, he ripped the shirt from seam to seam, before easing the fabric out from underneath Renly and tossing it aside.  “Now relax, will you? You feel more tense than Stannis looks.”

Renly laughed a little despairingly at that, but he found he did relax a little when Loras poured some of the contents of the bottle onto his back. Whether the oil actually did anything though or whether it was just the strong smell of lavender and the firm press of Loras’ hands against his skin that was soothing, Renly didn’t know. Either way, it was satisfying, the ground lavender slightly gritty against his back. 

“Feel better?” Loras asked.

“Mmm,” Renly sighed. Essentially, Loras’ hands were doing exactly as the maester’s had done, but it couldn’t have felt more different. Loras’ hands were rough to the touch, his palms calloused and his fingers far from smooth, but Renly associated those hands with pleasure. Not once had he known those hands to hurt him.

Indeed, he almost dozed off under Loras’ hands, despite being on the floor, but he found he was vaguely aware of it when Loras’ hands left his back to be replaced by his lips. His kisses were soft, gentle, and quite easy to get lost in, for Renly barely noticed as Loras shifted beside him and climbed astride his hips. He put almost no weight upon him, but Renly could feel the heat of him next to his skin. His very proximity was soothing, and his kisses against the nape of his neck even more so.

“Can I fuck you?” he breathed as his kisses reached his ear, palms on each one of Renly’s shoulder blades as he leant in. “If I’m very gentle with you?”

Strangely, it didn't even occur to Renly to say no, and he nodded against the floor, the heavy carpets scratching his cheek as Loras pulled his breeches down. It seemed like a natural progression of things even when Loras slid an already slippery finger into him, and it was oddly relaxing, Loras’ spare hand never ceasing its soothing circles against his back. 

“I’m sorry for earlier,” Loras whispered, his voice a kiss against Renly’s ear. “I didn’t mean to seem unsympathetic.”

Renly fell quiet, mulling over what to say. Part of him didn't want Loras to lose face by aditting he'd been frightened and yet Renly found he needed to know. "My squire told me you were frightened," he said eventually. 

Loras gave neither a denial or an admission. He said nothing at all in fact. He just continued exploring Renly's arse with his long clever fingers.

"Well, were you?" Renly pressed gently.

"A little."

"And did my men make fun?"

"A little."

Renly paused, biting back a sigh. He imagined that Loras got made fun of by his men a lot more than he was aware of, whether it was snide comments or lewd insinuations. Loras seemed to bear it all silently, and never had Renly known him to let people's comments weight on Renly's shoulders too. He was too good to him for that.

"And why don't you retaliate?" he asked suddenly, the question finding its way out of his mouth without him willing it.

Loras paused. "Because you asked me not to once," he said softly. He still had a finger inside of Renly but he seemed to have forgotten it. 

"I did?"

"Yes, after I sliced Grandison's arm open. You were so disappointed with my behaviour that you left me behind. I had to stay at home whilst other boys got to ride alongside you on your tour of the Stormlands." He was quiet for a little while. "And I didn't like it. Not one bit. You'd never left me behind before."

Renly said nothing. He remembered that incident well, but he was surprised that Loras seemed to have taken his punishment so to heart. Twisting despite the pain in his shoulder, he squeezed Loras' hand gently. There was no more use talking about it. 

“I thought you were going to fuck me?” he whispered.

“Mmm,” Loras breathed, “I was, wasn’t I?” Slowly, he slipped another long finger into his arse and Renly groaned, letting go of Loras’ hand so that he could resume touching him with it. The pleasure seemed to dull the pain, and Renly sighed, resting his cheek back against his myrish carpets as Loras' spare hand cupped the curve of his arse, squeezing ever so slightly as if his arse were a fruit he was tempted to bite into. It was probably because they usually liked to face each other when making love, but Loras seemed to pay more attention to his arse than he usually did. He proceeded very slowly, his fingers persistent in their rhythm whilst all the while, Loras kneaded and rubbed his arse, bending occasionally to press tiny wet kisses on the insides of his thighs before he'd run his tongue up almost to his entrance, teasing a large circle around it that made Renly tense, so sure was he of the odd notion that Loras might place a kiss there. He never did though and strangely, Renly almost wanted him to by the time that Loras seemed to have finished readying him.

He groaned again when Loras pushed into him, each inch of his cock stretching him a little more. Renly had thought earlier that Loras might be a little rough with him that evening, that he might seek to punish him for his wavering attention during the jousts, but he was as gentle with him as he’d promised. He was slow and steady, and whilst he didn’t ask if Renly was all right, Renly imagined that he probably didn’t need to. Loras read him as if he were an open book, and be it a tiny grunt of discomfort that escaped his lips, or a subtle tensing of his shoulders, Renly knew that Loras would immediately be aware of it.

He found a rhythm quickly, a slow rhythm that Renly could handle, and Renly groaned into the carpets, grunting slightly as Loras’ hips rocked up against him, his cock filling him time and time again. And as Loras rutted gently against him, Renly found himself thinking back to the lewd comments other men might make to Loras, that men might make to him if they knew that he didn't just fuck Loras but he allowed Loras to fuck him. It made him feel a little uneasy and yet he regretted that as soon as Loras' cock slid into him once more. It felt too good to be filled, to have his arse stuffed so tight with Loras' cock that it felt like they were of one body.

Indeed, they shook as one as they both hit their peak, and whilst Renly's back had felt as stiff as a board before Loras had entered the room, as his release took him and the pleasure eventually ebbed away, Renly found himself left almost boneless, floppy against the floor like the Tully fish of Riverrun.

Loras seemed less worn out than he was, and whilst he rested for a few moments against Renly’s side, it wasn’t long before his arms were wrapping themselves around Renly’s chest.

“Bed?” he laughed, pressing a kiss between Renly’s shoulder blades.

“Bed,” Renly agreed wearily. To be quite honest, he no longer cared what the maester had said about his soft mattress. He wanted it and he wanted it now. Summoning all his energy, he pushed himself up onto his feet, aided by Loras heaving from around his middle.

He collapsed onto his bed with a sigh of relief despite how sticky he was, and he drained the tiny bottle the maester had given him without a second thought, desperate for sleep to take him. Indeed, he only had time to register the bitter taste and Loras’ frown of disapproval before his eyelids started to feel heavy. It was a blissful feeling, and Renly smiled as his eyes closed, sleep on the very near horizon and Loras still making faces beside him.

 

* * *

 

 

Renly awoke to find the bedclothes being pulled out of his grasp. “Loras?” he mumbled, giving the fabric a hefty tug and sighing in content when he could wrap it around him once more.

“What?” came the weary response. Loras’ voice sounded tired, and it jerked Renly awake.

“What’s the matter?”

“ _What’s the matter?_ ” Loras repeated incredulously.

“Yes,” Renly mumbled. “That’s the question I asked.”

“Why don’t you sit up and see?”

Renly groaned and opened his eyes, rolling over to face him. He frowned to see that Loras was lying beside him, bare.

“Why are you exposing yourself to me?” Renly muttered. He reached out a hand to touch Loras’ cock.

Loras raised an eyebrow and it was then that Renly realised the covers were all on his side, wrapped around him.

“Oh,” he mumbled. He rubbed his eyes. “I’ve taken all the bedclothes haven’t I?”

“You don’t say,” Loras muttered under his breath. “It’s not like I have an important joust in the morning and need to sleep is it?”

Renly sighed and reached out to him. He seemed to have made a cocoon out of the blankets and he opened it, drawing Loras inside with him, into the warmth and into his arms. He felt a little guilty now. Loras, he supposed, would fight in the melee too once the jousting was finished for the morning, and he would need to be well rested.

“Do you know who you’ll be facing first tomorrow in the joust?” Renly sighed as he tightened his arms around him. “It’s either the Kingslayer or one of the Cleganes no?”

“Yes,” Loras agreed. “It’s Gregor.”

Renly sighed deeply. Running his fingers up Loras’ back, he had to think that Loras was as dainty as a newborn bird compared to the Mountain. His limbs were slender and willowy, and beneath his creamy skin lay fragile bones that he imagined Gregor Clegane could snap in two if he so wished. He almost voiced his fears out loud, before he came to his senses. For all the Mountain’s size, the fact remained that Loras was a better jouster than he was. The Mountain would probably look less formidable when he was lying in the dirt.

“You will unhorse the Mountain won’t you?” he whispered against Loras’ curls, tucked as he was partially into the crook of Renly’s neck.

“Of course I will,” Loras snorted. “I have it all thought out. I’ve a plan and everything.”

“You do?”

“Yes, I'm going to make his horse nervous,” Loras told him with a smirk that Renly could hear in his voice.

“But I thought that in nine times out of ten, a horse is nervous because its rider is nervous?” Renly repeated with a laugh. “Or was that just when you were making fun of me?”

Loras shrugged. “I stand by what I said. Nine times out of ten, a horse is nervous because of its rider. I’m going to use that one time in ten.”

“Which is…?”

“Mares.”

“Mares?”

“Mmm, Gregor always rides a stallion. I’m going to ride a mare.”

“That dead knight rode a mare,” Renly pointed out. “Didn’t do him any good.” He winced a little as he thought of that dead boy lying before the crowds, blood soaking the ground where he’d been struck down.

“Yes, but mine’s going to be in heat.” Loras explained.

He didn’t need to say anymore and Renly grinned. “Gods you’re sneaky, Loras.”

Loras raised his head and pressed an almost conspiratorial kiss to Renly’s lips, eyes dancing in the dim light. “You’ve taught me well,” he laughed.

“ _Me?_ ” Renly asked. “How am I sneaky in the slightest,”

“Mmm,” Loras hummed, brushing his lips close to Renly’s ear. “Because there’s nothing sneaky about seeking to depose the queen and replace her with my sister.”

“Absolutely not,” Renly told him assuredly.


	117. Chapter 117

Renly was late to the tourney field. So much so that the horns were sounding for the first joust by the time that he arrived: his face flushed slightly from hurrying and his hair barely combed. His late entrance was Alyn's fault, or perhaps Loras, depending on how Renly viewed it, for neither had bothered to wake him up that morning. Loras had merely slipped from his bed very early in the morning to prepare for his joust, long before Renly had woken if the cold expanse of sheet next to him was anything to go by. Alyn meanwhile had apparently cowered outside all morning, even as the hours ticked by until it was long past when Renly should have risen. His squire had not admitted it, but he'd no doubt been too fearful of finding Renly and Loras tangled up together in the sheets to risk entering his bedchamber.

Quite honestly, Renly was a little miffed at them both, and whilst his back was considerably less sore this morning, he'd felt a little sorry for himself as he'd rushed to the tourney grounds, desperate that he wouldn't miss Loras' tilt. He hadn't even had time to properly wash his face and even breakfast had had to be sacrificed: a very miserable thing indeed seeing as the smell of cooked sausages and bacon still lingered tantalisingly around every pavilion Renly had ridden past.

Indeed, his stomach rumbled slightly as Renly slipped into his seat, just in time to see the Hound appear at the end of the lists. Menacing in dark grey armour, his cloak was a surprisingly pleasant olive green which unfortunately did little to temper the Hound's unsightly appearance.

Jaime Lannister appeared momentarily, and so used was Renly to seeing them as a pair, it was only then that he noticed Cersei's absence next to Robert. Jaime was perhaps beautiful enough for the both of them, however, and he glittered from golden head to golden heel as he rode before the crowd atop a blood bay destrier. The horse too was laden with gold and the light shimmered most gloriously upon the gilded mail that had been draped across the mare's flanks.

Renly was just trying to see if Loras and his new set of armour was anywhere to be seen yet when a voice rang out loud and clear through the gallery.

"A hundred gold dragons on the Kingslayer,” it called, and Renly recognised Littlefinger’s slimy tone.

Renly didn’t know who would win- both the Hound and the Kingslayer were admirably skilled, but he took the bet just to spite Littlefinger. “Done,” he shouted back without a moment's hesitation. “The Hound has a hungry look about him this morning.”

“Even hungry dogs know better than to bite the hand that feeds them,” Littlefinger called dryly.

Renly shrugged, before regretting it, as the movement awakened the dormant ache that still lingered in his back and shoulders. Littlefinger's logic seemed sound enough, but Renly knew of several occasions where the Hound had unhorsed Jaime. Admittedly, more often than not, it _was_ the other way around, but Renly imagined that that had little to do with any intention on the Hound's part that he let Jaime win.

The two opponents were ready now and Sandor Clegane dropped his Hound-head visor with an audible clang, transforming fluidly from man to beast. He took up position at the near end of the lists.

Jaime was in less of a hurry. The Hound's lance was already couched, ready and waiting, and yet he was loping lazily about the lists still, tossing a kiss to a woman in the crowd as the sun danced with his armour. Eventually though, he took up his own position, body coiled, like a lion waiting to spring.

The gallery trembled as they plummeted towards each other. The Hound leant forward as he rode, his lance rock steady, but Jaime shifted deftly in his seat in the instant before impact. The Hound's point was turned harmlessly against the golden shield with the lion blazon, while Jaime's own lance hit the Hound square in the chest. Wood shattered with a deafening _crack_ , and the Hound reeled, fighting to keep his seat in the wake of the impact.

Renly groaned as the crowds began to cheer.

“I wonder how I ought to spend your money,” Littlefinger called, and Renly could see the one hundred dragons of their wager spinning in the man's greedy little eyes.

The cheers were ultimately premature though, and Renly smirked at the Master of Coin as the Hound stayed in his saddle, jerking his mount around as he rode back to the lists for the second pass. Jaime was doing the same, and Renly watched as they were both handed up fresh lances, Jaime sharing a jest with his squire, a small golden-haired boy who was himself in miniature. The Hound of course did no such thing, and the boy who passed his lance up to him was met with nothing but stony silence.

Renly crossed his fingers as the pair spurred forward at a hard gallop once more. This time, when Jaime shifted his seat, the Hound moved with him. Both lances exploded and by the time that the splinters had settled, a riderless blood bay was trotting off in search of grass while the Kingslayer rolled in the dirt, golden and dented.

Renly rose up out of his seat, cheering for the Hound as if he were an old friend and not a monster with a half-ruined face. He grinned at Littlefinger as the one hundred golds were passed reluctantly down to him.

“I knew the Hound would win,” came a small voice from the row in front of him, and Renly peered down curiously to see who had spoken. It was the eldest Stark girl, who infuriatingly, was still wearing the red rose Loras had given her yesterday. The flower had evidently been placed in water overnight, for the petals were still fresh and bright, and Renly had to stifle a laugh as he saw the way the girl clutched it lovingly to her breast. Evidently she was quite smitten with the beautiful Knight of Flowers who she imagined had taken an interest in her.

Littlefinger too had turned to look at her. “If you know who’s going to win the second match, speak up now," he told her with an amused smile, "before Lord Renly picks me clean.”

Renly laughed. “A pity the Imp is not here with us," he lamented, "I should have won twice as much.”

The same would have gone for Cersei even, and for the first time in his life Renly found himself regretting the fact that he wasn't surrounded by Lannisters. That regret disappeared though as soon as he turned back to lists, to be replaced with glee. Jaime was back on his feet, but his ornate lion helmet had been twisted around and dented in his fall, and now he could not get if off. The commons were hooting and pointing, the lords and ladies were trying to stifle their chuckles, and failing, and over it all Renly could hear Robert laughing, louder than anyone. Indeed, the king was almost out of his chair when finally they had to lead the famed Lion of Lannister off to a blacksmith, blind and stumbling.

Renly would have liked to watch his laughable progress towards the blacksmith, but time apparently was to be short. Gregor Clegane was already taking up his position, and whilst there was still no sign of Loras, it would clearly not be long before the second semi-final would be held.

Renly didn't cease looking around for Loras and yet the crowd apparently spotted him first. A murmur ran up through the crowd that could only mean the famed Knight of Flower's arrival and Renly smiled as he turned to see what was so evidently pleasing the commons.

“Gods Loras,” Renly whispered as he caught sight of him, for that was all he could think of to say. The suit of armour was magnificent: silver plate polished to a blinding sheen and filigreed with twining black vines and tiny blue forget-me-nots which swirled up his arms, down his legs and across his chest. It was only when he turned and the morning light set him ablaze that Renly realised the forget-me-nots were sapphires and his mouth fell slightly open as a gasp went up from a thousand throats, the crowd evidently recognising the jewels at the same time as him. It was hard not to be awed, Renly thought as he stared. The sapphires twinkled in the sun like they were bidding a greeting, and across Loras' shoulders a cloak of the same dazzling blue hung heavy. It was woven of forget-me-nots, hundreds of fresh blooms sewn to a think woollen cape that reminded Renly of the shawl of roses that had adorned Margaery at the last Highgarden ball. The effect was breathtaking and Renly smiled to watch the petals flutter on the breeze as they tried in vain to escape the silver thread that held them to their cloak.

Loras had evidently followed through on his plans of last night. The mare he'd chosen was grey, the colour of smoke, and indeed, she seemed lighter than the air about her as she walked, the cloak of forget-me-nots rustling as it billowed out behind her. Renly didn't know how to tell if she was in heat, but he assumed she must have been, for even at a distance the Mountain's stallion was suddenly agitated. He could evidently smell her scent on the wind, and as she neared, he let out a bellow.

All this seemed to amuse Loras, and as he turned the mare around, he looked rather disdainfully over his shoulder at the stomping black stallion behind him. He'd evidently got slightly too close, and with another large bellow, the stallion lurched forwards towards the mare, an attempt to mount her which horse and rider artfully avoided with a quick prance sideways. It was just enough to put an acceptable distance between the two horses, but Loras made no further effort. He seemed to be enjoying Gregor's trouble, for indeed, even to the most uneducated eye, the Mountain was having difficult controlling his horse. The stallion was screaming, pawing the ground and tossing his head. Even a savage kick from Gregor's armoured boot didn't bring the animal under control and it reared up underneath him, almost throwing him.

Loras looked unbelievably smug as he saluted Robert, and smiling, he glanced up at Renly before he cantered off to the other end of the lists. Then in one fluid motion, his helm was passed up, his visor was flipped down and his lance was couched. Poised and elegant like a cat upon his mount, Loras was ready to go.

Gregor had more trouble. He fought with the reins as he brought his animal to the line, the beast still pawing and shuddering underneath him. He was barely ready by the time the horn sounded.

Renly watched from the edge of his seat as the two set off towards each other, one rider fairer than the dawn and the other fouler than a festering wound. The difference in size was alarming; Loras a veritable figurine compared to the colossus that was the Mountain; like a child faced with a giant from one of the old stories. The difference in skill though was greater still. Loras glided down the lists like a swan in flight, his mare coursing beneath him as if it were a water that he were riding. Gregor's mount meanwhile heaved beneath him, thrashing at the bit.

Loras had clearly already scented victory. His lance was lowered with practised ease, the wood an extension of his arm, so steady that he could have balanced a juggling ball on it.

He put the Mountain to shame. Already off balance by the time he was halfway down the lists, the Mountain was almost out of his seat by the time the two men collided. The impact was deafening as Loras' lance struck him in the chest. He shuddered above his mount, heaving one way and then the next before he crumbled, a tumbling avalanche that brought the great stallion down with him in a tangle of flesh and steel.

The crowd for once didn't act as one, and as Renly got to his feet in delight, he heard all sorts of things. Some were applauding; others muttering in excitement; several were whistling, high pitched trills that rang out over the gasps and murmurs that too swirled about the crowd. Above it all though was the loud, rasping laugh of the Hound.

The only person unsurprised perhaps to see the Mountain crumble so easily was Loras himself, and he lifted his visor up with a smile once he’d reined up at the end of the lists, clearly basking in his own glory as the crowd applauded for him, each man, woman and child showing him their adoration. His lance was not even broken, and as his sapphires winked in the sun, it was impossible not to stand in awe of him.

Wrapped up in watching him, Renly hadn’t given a second thought to Gregor on the ground, but he heard his roar.

“MY SWORD,” he boomed in a gravelly voice louder than Robert’s. Commanding, it was a voice laden with danger, and Renly whipped round to look at him as if the Mountain had pulled on a chain about his neck. His face was dark with fury, ugly and twisted, and Renly almost recoiled to look at him. He shuddered to see that his squire was running to him, a greatsword in his hands that was so huge it all but dragged on the ground behind him before it was heaved up into the Mountain's armoured hands.

Renly almost heard it before he saw it: the huge stallion screaming as its neck was cloven almost in two by the bite of Ser Gregor’s blade. The poor animal fell to its knees, the single blow sufficing to end its life. Its blood was still streaming as Gregor turned away from it. His sword was dripping blood and as he clenched it in his fist, Renly realised with horror who his next target was.

Loras must have seen the monster approaching; he couldn’t not have done- the Mountain was already casting him into shadow. But he didn’t seem to have made the connection. He was sat still atop his mare, his eyes on the dying stallion.

Renly tried to shout to him and yet no sound came out. His throat was tight and dry, his tongue suddenly made of knives in his mouth, and even if he'd screamed at the top of his lungs it would have been no use; his voice would have been drowned out by the crowd, drowned out by a hundred thousand screams of terror.

He barely heard Loras shout for his own sword, and Renly just about registered the terror on Tommas Fossoway’s face as he struggled to obey the command before he was knocked aside by the Mountain's fists, forced face first into the dirt.

Renly didn’t spare a second thought for the boy. He could only watch, frozen to the spot, as the Mountain grabbed at Loras’ mare’s reins. The horse reacted before Loras did, and scenting blood, she reared, hooves flying through the air and missing little Tommas Fossoway's face by inches as they came back down.

Loras barely kept his seat, and palms clammy and hot, Renly felt the panic coursing through his veins as he stared on. He had to get down there to him, to help him, to do something, even if was but shielding him with his body. Desperation searing through him like a hot flame, he tried to push into the row in front. The gallery was too crowded though, and he didn't even make a dent in the mass of bodies before him.

He could only stand and watch like a statue, frozen with fear whilst his heart thumped in his ears like the wings of a caged bird. The mountain had his bloodied sword in both hands now, and savagely, he swung it at Loras. It caught Loras in the chest, staining his armour with the stallion's blood as Loras tumbled from his saddle.

He landed dazed in the dirt, inches from the Mountain's feet. Renly wanted to scream at him, wanted to go down on his knees and beg him to get up. Loras didn’t move though, and Renly’s breath caught in his chest as Gregor raised his sword again, nothing standing now between his might and the boy on the ground who Renly loved.

All Renly could do was close his eyes, convinced somehow that if he couldn’t see it, the inevitable wouldn’t happen. Or else perhaps that he'd wake and it would still be night, Loras warm beside him as they fought over the bedclothes.

“ _Leave him be,_ ”

Renly’s eyes snapped open as the clang of steel echoed below. The voice belonged to the Hound, whose blade was blocking the path of his brother's blade. The Mountain pivoted in wordless fury, but Renly didn't look to see if the Hound was cloven in two by the resulting blow. His eyes were on Loras. He was still on the floor, and for a moment Renly thought he was dead, that Gregor had already struck him. He almost collapsed back into his seat when he saw him stir. Disorientated, Loras was rising to his knees. It was the cue onlookers needed. Several men ran out to him, and pulling him to his feet, they helped him to safety as Tommas Fossoway was dragged, trembling, from where he'd been knocked to the ground.

It was only when Loras was clear of the Mountain's arching blade that Renly collapsed back into his seat, and he thought he was probably trembling as much as poor Tommas Fossoway was as he watched Loras be led off in the direction of his pavilion.

It was then too that Robert finally came to his senses, his drunken stupor obviously lifting.

“STOP THIS MADNESS,” he roared, and the whole gallery shook with the ferocity of it. “IN THE NAME OF YOUR KING.”

The Hound went down on one knee at the command and Ser Gregor’s blow whistled through air, and at last he came to his senses. He dropped his sword and glared at Robert, who surrounded by his Kingsguard and a dozen other knights and guardsman, he would never be able to touch.

Wordlessly, and with a fury that was still making countless women sob, he turned and strode off, pushing past Barristan Selmy with a face like thunder.

“Let him go,” Robert boomed as his Lord Commander of the Kingsguard bristled, his hand raising his long-unsheaved sword. It was clear that Ser Barristan would have liked nothing more than to have run a sword through the elder Clegane brother.

Slowly, the crowds began to settle and finally, Renly found that he could breathe again. He ignored Littlefinger's smug glances at him and focused on regaining his composure. Perhaps it was the panic still throbbing through his veins that was only now starting to ebb away but he found that his mask came surprisingly easily to his face, out of necessity rather than anything else. Taking deep breaths, he forced his face into a smile.

His composure was only skin deep though, and Renly was just contemplating whether he might slip out of the stands in search of Loras when Loras returned to the field. He'd removed his finery, and out of his armour, he looked somehow even smaller. It was to the Hound that he went, who stood still amongst Robert's guard, sword still in hand. And if Renly hadn't seen it with his own eyes, he'd never have known that Loras had just escaped the attack of a savage beast by the skin of his teeth. He stood tall, confidence in every step, and he knew no fear as he grasped the Hound's armoured hand and forced it up into the air.

“I owe you my life," he told him. "The day is yours, ser.”

“I am no ser,” the Hound rasped back, but he was silenced by Robert's hand.

Renly hadn’t thought he’d ever see the day where Loras would forfeit a tilt, but he could see why Loras had done it. The crowds were going mad for the gallant gesture, and whilst they cheered even as Robert handed the Hound the champions purse, Renly suspected that it was Loras they were cheering for- that their shouts and screams were for the boy from Highgarden who'd been set upon by a mad dog, and not for the other dog who stood still upon the field with a bag of gold clutched in his hand.

It was only when the King had commanded that everyone make their way to the archery field that Renly saw the change on Loras' face, and with a blinding fury that rivalled the Mountain's earlier rage, he stalked off the lists as if he were already plotting how to drive his sword through Ser Gregor's heart.


	118. Chapter 118

Renly let the crowd take him as they moved to the archery field, following in their midst but waiting for the opportunity to slip away to the pavilions. Earlier, he had been looking forward to the archery. Balon Swann, after all, was almost certain to win, and Renly did enjoy seeing the sons of his bannermen perform well. He found he’d lost all interest now though, and whispering a word in his squire’s ear so that he wouldn’t be missed, he took a sharp detour off the path towards a distant gold and green tent where he knew he’d find Loras.

Nobody glanced back as he slipped away, and Renly was able to weave in and out of the pavilions unnoticed until he’d found the one he was searching for.

Unsurprisingly enough, where Renly would usually have found part of the green velvet rolled up to allow entry, the pavilion door was shut, the fabric loosely laced together to stop it blowing open in the wind. It was a clear sign that Loras didn’t want company, a sign which Renly took no notice of. Instead, he called Loras’ name as loudly as he dared, no doubt in his mind that Loras would want to see him, and sure enough, the laces were soon pulled roughly apart and the door tugged up just enough for Renly to get under if he bent down.

Feeling a little undignified, Renly ducked under the low-hanging fabric, the world around him turning a soft green as the sun seeped through the velvet canopy.

Loras was stood just inside, but when he saw Renly he sat down in a nearby chair, patting the one next to him. “Come sit,” he said. Renly thought he looked pleased to see him, but his voice was still more of a growl, and it was evident that he was in a terrible rage; Renly could practically see his hands twitching as they wrapped themselves around an imagined Gregor Clegane’s throat. He was furious, and Renly imagined that if Loras knew where the Mountain had stormed off to, he'd have probably been pursuing him, sword in hand.  

Renly felt a little odd as he took the seat offered. When he’d seen Loras attacked so on the field, his first thought afterwards had been to rush to him, to take him tightly in his arms and never let him go. Loras, however, didn’t seem to feel the need to be reassured like that. He was too caught up in plotting his revenge to have time for embraces and soft words. He'd have probably been quite bemused if Renly had tried to comfort him, and really, Renly thought, Loras wasn't the one out of the two of them who needed comforting. It was he himself who needed to be reassured. 

Looking around though, Renly was a little reassured to see a maester in the tent, an old man who was bent over a small boy who Renly recognised as poor Tommas Fossoway. The boy was silent enough, as any squire ought to be, but even from a distance it was clear to see the tears that were streaming down his face. The maester was trying to comfort him, but was apparently having little luck, for the boys shoulders were still heaving with dry, silent sobs that racked his entire body. Renly felt intrusive looking at him, and he forced his gaze away. 

“You’re all right, aren’t you?” Renly asked Loras softly, for his benefit rather than Loras’. Indeed, all he earned for his trouble was Loras rolling his eyes at him.

“Of course I’m all right,” he said shortly. “And before you ask, yes I’ve seen the maester, no nothing’s broken, and yes I’m definitely _sure_ that I’m all right.”

Renly gave a weak laugh. “You took the words right out of my mouth,” he admitted. 

“Mm,” Loras agreed. “Well I’ve known you for a very long time.” 

Renly just smiled. He was itching to ask Loras if he was quite sure he was all right in spite of the jibe and he had to force himself to bite the question down. “Is your squire all right?” he asked instead, even though it was rather clear that the boy was distinctly not all right if the sobs were anything to go by. 

Loras shrugged, turning to look at the boy who was sat still with the maester. "His elbows are a bit grazed,” he said, “But otherwise he’s not harmed. I think he’s just in shock.”

 _Why aren’t you in shock_ , Renly wanted to ask. But he didn’t. He just bit his tongue so hard that it almost drew blood. 

“Give me a moment,” Loras sighed when Renly said nothing. “I’ll try and get us some privacy. Wait here.” Standing, he walked over to Tommas Fossoway and rested his hand on the boy's shoulder. It was an oddly tender gesture, and Renly felt a little odd seeing Loras' behaving in a manner that even bordered on gentle with anyone aside from him. It made Renly feel strangely jealous, and he bit back a sigh. 

The boy lifted his head at Loras' gesture and let out an audible sob this time.

“Stop crying,” Loras told him. 

The boy just sobbed harder. Or so Renly thought. Seconds later he realised that the boy must have said something, for Loras answered.

“I _know_ that you were trying to get my sword,” Loras sighed wearily. “We’ve been through this three times now.”

A few more choked words disguised as sobs followed.

“No I won’t tell anyone you’ve been crying.”

A few more.

“And no, Lord Renly won’t either.”

That seemed to placate the boy, and sniffing, he wiped his face. His cheeks were a little pink and Renly supposed he was embarrassed to be seen so. He was still very small and slight, and Renly looked upon him as a child, but in actual fact, he must have been approaching thirteen; he was far too old to be seen with tears upon his face. Indeed, thinking back to when Loras had been that age, Renly couldn't imagine him behaving similarly. He'd seen Loras cry only twice when he'd been his squire. The first had been upon Willas' accident, and the second had been before Loras had left Storm's End to be knighted in King's Landing. Loras had been fourteen then, and whilst his tears had been shed in the privacy of Renly's chambers, he'd been mortified of them all the same. 

Loras, though, was being surprisingly sympathetic now, and there was only a hint of impatience in his voice as he bent down once more to speak to his squire. “Now come," he said gently, "Didn't your mother and father travel up for the tourney?”

The boy nodded, still wiping his face and rubbing at his eyes. 

“Well why don’t you go and find them with Maester…” Loras trailed off before shrugging, “with this nice maester here.” He gave him a rather stiff pat on his curly head and nudged him to his feet. “Run along now. I can get myself ready.”

Renly waited until the boy and the maester had left the tent before speaking.

“Get yourself ready for what?”

“The melee,” Loras said bluntly, as if it was obvious.

“ _The melee?_ ” Renly raised an eyebrow and felt his blood beginning to simmer. “You’re jesting with me.” Rising from his chair, he watched in disbelief as Loras went to the table in the centre of the tent where his armour was laid out and started picking up pieces of padding and mail. 

Loras was frowning when he next glanced up. “Why would I be jesting?” he asked icily, pulling his linen doublet off and pulling on the heavy padding in its place. “Why shouldn’t I fight in the melee?”

Renly just stared at him. “Can you hear yourself talking?” he hissed. “You were inches from being hacked in two by the Mountain and you want to fight in the melee? I thought you were going to be killed, Loras. Everyone did. Didn't you hear the screaming?”

Loras’ frowned deepened. “I don’t follow your reasoning, Renly.”

“Let me look at your chest,” Renly demanded. Walking over to him, he yanked the padding and Loras’ small clothes up. There was a very faint red mark across his breast where Gregor's greatsword had struck. 

Loras glanced down too. “There’s nothing to see,” he said lightly, picking up the breastplate and fitting it over his shoulders.

“Well not yet,” Renly protested. “But in an hour your chest is going to be black and blue. You took the Mountain’s full strength to you.” He scrunched his eyes closed as he saw it again in his mind's eye: the monstrous sword of the largest Clegane striking Loras in the chest, knocking him from his horse. It still made Renly feel weak, the helplessness flooding back. 

Loras shrugged though, unfazed. “Nothing’s broken," he said.

“ _Yet,_ ” Renly pointed out scathingly. “What are you going to do, repay the Mountain in the melee? Are you going to slay him like a monster in a fairytale?”

Loras gave him a rather twisted smile. “That’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

Renly took him by the shoulders, and had he not been concerned for his chest, he would have shaken him. “Hear yourself speak Loras," he implored. "Look at yourself. You’re a quarter of his size. You’ve no chance of bringing down the Mountain in the melee.”

Loras’ eyes narrowed. “You doubt my skill?”

“No, Loras," Renly sighed. "I don't doubt your skill. But you’re disadvantaged in a melee in a way that the Mountain isn’t. A blunt blade affects your ability to do much damage at all, but no blunted weapon can temper the Mountain’s strength. Even the best swordsman in the kingdom can't force a blunted blade through steel armour. Whereas the Mountain can knock you down like a rag doll. And mark my words, he will, Loras. He's the sort of man who holds a grudge. He'll come for you like the rabid dog he is. And I won't stand by and watch him make a second attempt on your life." 

Loras practically snarled at him. “I don't care what you say," he snapped. "I’m fighting in it." 

“You’re not,” Renly warned.

“I bloody well am," Loras hissed, fastening his breastplate defiantly. "You’re my lover not my lord, Renly. You can’t forbid me from fighting.”

“Can I not?”

“No,” Loras hissed, and with one last glare he stalked out of his own tent, half armoured and so furious that Renly could see the steam coming out of his ears.

 

* * *

 

 

Renly waited for half an hour for him to come back, but it was in vain, and once it was clear Loras was not about to come back grovelling, Renly made his way miserably over to the archery field. He took his seat with a thump, and Alyn must have picked up immediately on his bad mood, for he quickly stood to pour Renly a cup of wine as if that might cheer his spirits.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you, my lord,” he said quietly as he handed Renly the goblet. 

“Well you wouldn’t have done,” Renly muttered, “If Loras Tyrell wasn’t such a foolish cunt.” 

Alyn seemed a little flustered at that and he almost spilled his flask of wine. He seemed almost bewildered to hear Renly talk so about Loras, and he evidently didn’t know what to say. Renly wished now that he’d managed to keep his temper under wraps. The thought of Loras fighting in the melee though was enough to make him forget even attempting to control his temper. 

He sighed heavily. “Excuse my mood, Alyn,” he said, drinking deeply from his goblet. “It’s been a trying day.”

Alyn just nodded, sitting back down. “Yes, my lord,” he agreed, “But may I ask, why is Ser Loras a… why is Ser Loras um.... _foolish?”_

“He’s going to fight in the melee,” Renly laughed bitterly. He was pleased to see the look on Alyn's face as the words left his mouth. His squire was evidently as taken-aback as he had been, and Renly was glad to know that it wasn't just him who thought Loras was barking mad. 

“Surely not?” Alyn breathed. 

“Mmm,” Renly agreed. “As I said, a foolish cunt.”

Alyn laughed a little nervously. “Surely you don’t mean that, my lord?”

Renly shrugged. “Right now I do.” And turning to watch the archery, he had to curse silently to himself to see that Ser Balon Swann, who he'd very much wanted to win, was out of the running. Today, it seemed, was not his day.  

 

* * *

 

 

Loras didn’t fight in the melee.

The last competitor had now paraded past and there was still no sign of the Knight of Flowers with his three golden roses on a green field that the crowds adored. And whilst Renly had felt more than a little ill-tempered as he’d sunk into his seat to watch the melee he'd have rather gouged his eyes out than seen, he began to feel a little better now. Ignoring Alyn's watchful gaze, Renly slipped from his seat. 

Loras had evidently returned to his pavilion, and this time, he didn’t look pleased to see Renly in the slightest. In fact, quite the opposite, for he turned his face from Renly violently, scowling. His armour had evidently been removed in a rage, for the jewelled steel was scattered across the ground carelessly, as if it might have been thrown. 

He looked so furious and miserable sitting alone in his tent when he evidently wanted to be out in the melee that Renly felt a little guilty, especially considering the fact that it looked as if the Mountain had decided not to enter either.

“Loras,” he sighed, approaching a little warily. 

Loras just about had the grace to look at him, raising his head. “What?” he spat.

“You didn’t fight.”

Loras shrugged. His chest must have been bruised after all, for it evidently caused him pain now, and he hissed.

Renly said nothing. He merely went to Loras’ side and attempted to lift his doublet up. He’d only managed to work it up to Loras’ waist before Loras decided he wasn’t going to put up with that though. He tugged the fabric out of Renly’s hands with a scowl.

Renly shrugged and surrendered his hold on the white linen. “Fine,” he sighed, giving up. “I won’t look.” Bending, he pressed a kiss to his chest instead. “But come, let us go back to the keep. It's no use you sitting here and wishing you were in the melee.”

Loras almost glared at him. “What about the feast?” he asked.

“Fuck the feast.”

Loras seemed to consider that for a while before he nodded. He then picked up his cloak and fastened it around his neck, following Renly out of the pavilion door, oddly close to his side for someone apparently in a foul mood with him.

 

* * *

 

 

They rode home separately in the end, Loras with his guard and Renly with half of his own, for many had wished to see the melee and Renly had had no desire to deny them. To his surprise though, he had only had time to remove his cloak before Loras appeared in his chamber, sidling in through the back corridor.

He was rather sullen, and Renly suspected that, as much as Loras evidently desired his company, he was probably still more than a little put out. He’d had a point when he’d said that Renly had no business interfering in Loras’ decisions, and whilst Renly didn’t regret that interference in the slightest, he supposed that he could at the very least try to smooth things over with him.

“I guess owe you an apology,” he sighed, reaching out a hand to touch one of Loras' curls. “I had no right to forbid you from fighting.”

“You’re right," Loras agreed curtly. "You didn't." He allowed Renly though to touch his hair. 

Renly laughed at his tone. “Am I forgiven?” he asked. He coiled one of Loras' curls fondly around his finger. 

“No.”

Renly just grinned, the relief that Loras was safe in his chambers instead of being hacked at with swords and hammers still flooding through him. Loras, he knew, wasn’t truly angry at him. He was certainly angry- angry at the Mountain for his attack, angry at the Hound for his victory, angry at fate for his bad luck, but he wasn’t angry at _him._ He wouldn’t be in his chambers if he had been.

Smiling, Renly reached down to pull him to him. Loras only resisted a little, and when Renly gave him another tug, he consented to stand close, bending slightly to allow Renly lean his chin on the top of his head like they'd often done when Loras had been younger. 

“You’ll get your revenge on the Mountain,” Renly soothed, running a hand up and down Loras' back. 

Loras nodded into his neck. “Yes,” he agreed tartly. “I shall.”

He seemed docile enough in Renly’s arms, and so Renly risked pulling up Loras’ doublet to see his side. Gently lifting the fabric, he stepped back to give himself enough space to examine Loras’ chest. He wasn’t disappointed. Where there had been a faint red mark earlier there was now a bruise to be proud of, blues and purples and yellows blooming across his skin.

“Gods, Loras,” he sighed. “You’re hurt.” He felt another wave of anger brim up inside him. 

Loras tugged down the fabric so hard that the linen almost ripped. The docility was gone now and he scowled at Renly.

“I am not hurt,” he insisted bitterly. He laughed, and it was full of resentment. “And anyway, you’d think that it was you who was hurt. You look terribly pale, Renly. You weren’t _frightened_ were you?”

There was ridicule in his tone; he was intending to patronise and belittle, and Renly found himself losing his temper. “Of course I was bloody frightened,” he snapped. “You were almost cloven in two in front of me. I’ve never been more terrified in my life.”

His words were met with a scowl, but to Renly’s surprise, Loras’ face then softened slightly. “Fair enough,” he mumbled under his breath, looking away.

Renly sighed deeply. “Just come here won’t you.” Standing on his tip-toes, he rested his head once more on top of Loras’ curly one. He put his hand over Loras’ chest. He could feel his heart beating under his palm through the fabric and nothing could have reassured him more. This morning had been rather unsettling, Renly thought, and he felt a little like the ground had suddenly been pulled out from underneath him. He’d always thought of Loras as invincible and yet today, he’d thought just for a moment that Gregor Clegane was going to snuff out the life he held so dear like a candle.

It was a terrifying thing to contemplate and Renly baulked at it. He forced it from his thoughts, pushed it to the back of his mind until he could remember how to breathe. He focused only on the rhythm of Loras’ heart, that steady beating which stilled his troubled thoughts.

“I was being silly,” he told Loras with a new found calm. “You were never in any real danger. He might have bruised you a bit more is all.” He was speaking to himself more than anything, desperate to convince himself of what he knew was a lie, and yet Loras laughed, the sound reverberating through Renly’s hand, still placed across his heart as it was.

“You’re right,” he smiled, his bad mood suddenly forgotten as he tilted his face up towards Renly’s. “I was never in any danger.”

“Of course you weren’t,” Renly agreed, trying not to hear the falsehoods in his own words. He rested his hands in the shallow dip of Loras’ waist, squeezing him tight.

“And if I’d had my sword,” Loras continued, his voice warm against Renly's neck. “He’d now be less of a mountain and more of a spattering of small hills.”

Renly nodded in agreement, trying to smile. He thought indeed that Loras being armed would have evened the playing field a little. He wasn't quite sure how much though. The Mountain, after all, was less of a man and more of a monster. 

Loras opened his mouth to say more, and yet this time Renly silenced him. He put his hand over Loras’ mouth and held it there. “Shh,” he whispered. “I’ll have no more talk of the Mountain.”

Loras raised an eyebrow, and lifting his hand to his mouth, peeled Renly’s hand away. “What shall you have instead?” he asked, a glint in his golden eyes. He seemed amused at the turn the conversation had taken and it was impossible now to think that he'd been so sullen just a few moments ago. 

“Well,” Renly chuckled, sliding his hands up Loras’ sides. “What do you think I might have instead?”

Loras didn't even blink. “Me,” he said bluntly. There was no coyness in his answer, and Renly had to smile at his audacity. There was no man in Westeros more self-assured than Loras, Renly thought. That confidence was very appealing, and Renly leant in a little closer. Everything about Loras was appealing: the golden flecks in his eyes, the rogue curl that fell across his forehead, even the smell of him- a curious mix now of roses and sweat that clung to Loras’ skin.

“Why should I have you instead?” Renly whispered under his breath. He tried to pull Loras to him again but was met with a coy step back.

“ _Why?_ ” Loras questioned, his brow furrowing but a small smile tugging at his lips that betrayed him. “Why _shouldn’t_ you have me?”

Renly just laughed. He offered no answer and simply reached out once more to claim what was his. Loras took another step back, but this time Renly’s fist closed around the fabric of Loras’ doublet and he yanked him back.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

Loras just smirked at him and deliberately took another step back. He was taunting Renly, and Renly just tightened his grip on the fabric still in his fist. He gave another fierce tug on it and this time, he didn’t give Loras a chance to try and dance out of his grip. Paying no mind to the bruises across Loras’ chest, he held him to him, using all the strength in his arms to keep him there, pressed helplessly against Renly’s body.

“So what now?” Loras whispered, his voice half a laugh as he tilted his head.

Renly paused, sliding a hand into Loras’ hair. “I really don’t know,” he smiled. 

"Really?" Loras seemed unimpressed.

"Really really."

Loras raised an eyebrow. “ _Renly_ ,” he sighed heavily, pushing himself closer. “Can we stop playing now?”

“Playing?”

“Yes, _playing_ ,” Loras breathed. “I don’t want to _play_ with you. I want you to fuck me.”

Renly paused, considering him. Loras’ cheeks were slightly flushed already, his lips slightly parted, and his hair just a little ruffled. It was a hint of a promise of what was to come, and Renly groaned a little under his breath.

"All right," he whispered. Slowly, he pushed against Loras’ shoulders, forcing him back step by step. After several steps there was a dull thump as Loras found his path blocked by the wall, and Renly smirked, seizing his chance. He pushed Loras roughly up against the stone, and with him pinned against the wall like a puppet, Renly stepped back slightly to admire his prize. Loras’ eyes were darkened with desire, his breath coming quickly, and Renly could almost see his heart fluttering in his chest. He was beautiful, and oddly, Renly somehow felt as if he was seeing Loras' beauty anew, so sure had he been this morning that he was going to lose him. 

“Just kiss me won’t you?” Loras groaned, leaning his head back against the cold stone. “Stop toying with me and kiss me.”

Renly wanted to laugh at his impatience, but he was quickly silenced as Loras tugged him towards him and pushed his lips against Renly’s. With hands cupping the back of Renly’s neck and a knee forced in between Renly’s thighs, Loras kissed him like they hadn't shared a kiss in weeks. He kissed him with an open mouth and an eager tongue. He may have been trapped between Renly’s chest and the wall and yet there was nothing about his demeanour to suggest that he was cornered. He was aggressive with his desires, and not for the first time, Renly was glad he had a man straining against him instead of a delicate wisp of a girl who’d have swooned in his arms.

Indeed, Renly wasn’t sure now if he and Loras were on their way to making love or if they were fighting. Kissing as they were but pushing roughly against each other, it could have been either, and Renly didn’t stop to ask. Arms braced against Loras’ shoulders, Renly kissed him until his lips were sore and until he'd forgotten how to breathe just a little.

If it was a fight though, it was Renly who was winning it. After a few moments Loras’ strength began to fail; his efforts flagging, and with one last push, Renly had him pinned completely helplessly against the wall, quivering against Renly’s chest like a leaf.

Loras seemed to recognise this and he stopped trying to push back against Renly's chest. He merely tilted his head back so that Renly could better access his neck. “Renly…” he murmured, and the name was almost a kiss itself against Renly’s lips.

“Yes?”

Loras paused, lips still half pressed against Renly’s. “You- you’re…” he couldn’t seemingly finish his sentence and instead he slipped an arm around Renly’s shoulders, a calloused hand sliding down Renly’s back, fingers pressing through the silk of his doublet. Vain as it was, Renly knew he was admiring the muscles in his back, feeling the way that they rippled and pulled taught as he pushed Loras up against the wall.

“I’m what?” Renly panted.

“Beautiful,” Loras settled on. “Strong.”

“Stronger than you?” Renly breathed. It was an unnecessary question. After all, it was him who had Loras against the wall, him who had his cock pressed heavily against Loras’ stomach.

“Stronger than me,” Loras repeated, and when he looked up at Renly, Renly’s pulse quickened to see the desire in his gaze. He knew well the mood that was taking Loras over. Loras wanted Renly to be rough with him, to force him into what they both knew Loras wanted to do anyway. For all Loras had insisted that he didn’t want to play, Renly knew that this was a game, a game where he pretended he didn’t care for anything except fucking Loras until Loras was sore and filled with his seed.

It was a game Renly was willing to play. “Take your clothes off,” he whispered. “I want you naked by the time I’m back here.”

Loras nodded headily, and Renly watched to make sure he obeyed before going for the oil that was hidden beneath his pillow.

Loras was naked when he returned, and Renly soaked in the sight of him. Still leaning heavily against the stone wall of Renly’s chambers, his cock bounced heavily against his stomach, throbbing and already wet at the tip. The tiny little bit of seed glistened in the sunlight that was streaming through the window as if to tempt Renly, and he reached down to collect it on the pad of his thumb, rubbing it across the slit in the head of Loras’ cock.

He brought his thumb to Loras’ mouth with a laugh, and he watched as Loras sucked it clean, tasting himself.

“Good boy,” he breathed, Loras’ velvety mouth still wrapped around his thumb. He pulled it out with a soft pop. “Now turn around for me.”

Smirking, Loras did as he was told. Hands planted on the wall, he even bent over for Renly, and Renly spread Loras’ legs slightly before stepping back to admire him again. Loras, he thought, was a picture, and Renly ran his hands up first one long leg, feeling the taught muscles ripple beneath the skin, before he moved onto the second leg. That leg was as glorious as the first and Renly smiled as Loras shivered slightly when Renly’s fingers brushed the sensitive spot behind his knees.

The curve of his arse was next, and Renly took his time there. Cupping it with both hands, he kneaded the soft supple flesh, enjoying the way Loras arched into his touch, evidently enjoying the attention. Smirking, Renly pressed a little harder, rubbing small, firm circles until Loras was groaning under his fingers.

It was reluctantly that Renly eventually tore his hands away to pick up the vial of oil on the floor. He eased the cork out with steady fingers, pouring a little of the silky liquid into his palm.

Loras turned his head after a few moments. “Hurry up won’t you?” he hissed.

Renly laughed and gave his arse a small slap. “I thought _I_ was in charge?” he asked. He took his dry hand and pushed Loras’ head back around rather pointedly.

Loras groaned again as Renly slid a finger inside him, and feeling a little cruel, Renly made him wait before he moved it at all. It drove Loras crazy, and desperately almost, he pushed back against Renly’s hand. Renly smirked to see him so agitated and biting his lip in determination, he made to push another finger in. He slid it in with great difficulty, for really he hadn’t stretched Loras enough yet, and he noted with great satisfaction that Loras whimpered.

He gave into Loras’ impatience then, and Loras murmured as Renly worked him slowly open, his fingers stretching and easing into him. He spread Loras’ legs a little wider apart before he added the third finger, and he looked so glorious bent over like that that Renly had to groan, his own cock twitching in his breeches and straining against the laces. He was growing impatient himself now, and he unlaced his breeches with his spare hand, nudging Loras back towards the wall to make sure he was still in place before he drew his cock out. Pressing a kiss between Loras' bare shoulder blades, he rubbed the head of his cock up against the crease of Loras’ arse, laughing as Loras groaned and arched his back in anticipation.

“You want this do you?” Renly whispered, laughing under his breath. He withdrew his fingers from Loras’ arse slowly, leaving him empty and slightly gaping before he brushed the head of his cock against his stretched entrance.

Loras merely nodded and pushed his arse back against him. His message was clear, and yet Renly ignored it. He turned away from Loras and set to undressing himself. He deliberately took his time, smiling at Loras’ neglected backside as Loras whined.

Loras was all but thrashing at the bit by the time that Renly was ready, and laughing, Renly had to push him back into position, placing Loras’ hands one by one back against the stone wall.

“Stay,” he murmured, slipping a finger back into Loras’ arse with ease. He waited until Loras had stilled before he did any more and as his reward, he curled his finger with practised skill, listening for the muffled little groans that it brought forth from Loras’ throat. He was particularly vocal this afternoon, crying out loudly as Renly stroked the tip of his finger across that sweet spot inside of him, and whilst it was on the tip of Renly's tongue to tell him to quiet down, but he bit back his protests. Loras, he thought, deserved to be a little loud today, and so Renly let him whine and whimper as he liked. 

Loras only calmed when he realised that Renly wasn't going to tease him much longer, and he quietened down considerably when Renly drew his fingers out of him for what would be the last time this afternoon. Indeed, Loras was the quieter of the two of them as Renly bent him over a little further to slide the head of his cock into him, and Renly couldn't help but groan as the tight velvety heat surrounded him. 

He was rougher than he would have been usually, and Loras broke his silence quickly, crying out with every thrust as he tried to both brace himself against the wall and roll his hips back to meet Renly. He seemed to relish Renly being a little heavy-handed with him, and it was Renly's name that fell from his lips as they all but crashed together. The manner in which he said it varied- sometimes the name was whimpered helplessly, sometimes it was whined, sometimes it was little more than a guttural grunt- but it was always there, and Renly had to groan himself as his name steadily became louder and louder. 

The tight heat of Loras' arse was intoxicating, his cries maddening, and it was almost enough for Renly to forget the day's event entirely. Not quite though, and whilst Renly tried to forget all thought of the Mountain as he pushed ever more forcefully into Loras, he couldn't help grip Loras’ hips a little possessively, his fingers digging into the bone. He had done a rather poor job already of convincing himself that Loras had never been in any danger, and yet now, when Loras was bent vulnerable before him, his naked chest bruised and battered although out of sight, Renly felt rather more unsettled. 

It was odd, he thought as he tightened his grip of Loras' slim hips. He was fucking Loras hard enough to hurt him, but the thought of _somebody else_   hurting Loras put him into a rage so terrible that he was liable to behave like Robert upon any mention of the rape of Lyanna Stark. Renly supposed it was a little hypocritical of him to be being so rough with Loras now, but he was equally safe in the knowledge that whilst he might make Loras a little sore- quite a bit sore actually- he’d always stop short of causing him any lasting harm. He supposed it also made a difference that this was definitely a case of Loras _letting_ him hurt him. The thought of Loras being hurt against his will, on the other hand, made Renly's heart ache painfully.

Either way, Renly felt suddenly a little regretful as he glanced down at the beautiful slim body bent over for him, a body that was taking his cock as if he'd been born doing it. He let his eye roam over Loras, taking in his lithe legs, his supple back that shifted so well to match Renly's movements, the graceful neck that was slightly bent as Loras let his head hang low. It was a beautiful creature in front of him, but a beautiful wounded creature, and Renly bit back a sigh, his previous mood leaving him. 

“Loras,” he whispered, holding Loras' hips as he stilled his movements. 

“Mmm,” Loras murmured.

Renly didn’t say anything as he drew out of Loras. He merely spun him around. “Come face me now,” he breathed. He wouldn't say it out loud, but he was suddenly a little desperate to cosset Loras, to hold him, to have him in his arms. 

Loras laughed softly, very confused and just a little disappointed. “What’s turned you all pathetic, Renly?” he asked, catching his breath. 

“I don’t know,” Renly sighed. Taking Loras by his wrists, he sat himself down on the edge of the bed and guided Loras onto his lap. Loras sank down back onto him easily, long legs wrapping themselves around Renly’s waist and arms looping around Renly's shoulders.

Loras pressed a kiss to his lips. “Please tell me you’re not dwelling on the Mountain?”

Renly said nothing, and Loras groaned, rocking now ever so slightly against him, taking Renly's silence as evidence. He evidently had enjoyed it more earlier, but he didn't complain. He just let Renly hold him, and didn't point out that he'd rather have had Renly's hands pushing him violently against the wall than have them slipped lovingly into his hair. 

“Loras…” Renly felt his voice drop an octave. “I know it’s foolish, but I thought I was going to lose you today.” The bruise on Loras' chest was visible now, and Renly brushed his fingers over it gently. He felt a little guilty now, having deprived Loras of both the melee and the thrill he'd been seeking tonight. 

Loras paused though, cocking his head thoughtfully as his hands tightened around Renly’s neck to keep himself balanced. “Well I’m here now,” he breathed. “You haven’t lost me.”

“No,” Renly whispered. He slipped his hands out of Loras' hair and placed them in the hollows in Loras' hips, and slowly, Loras began to move again, grinding his hips down against Renly's with as much strength as he had in his taught thighs. 

Those thighs clenched around Renly when Loras eventually came, and Renly followed suit soon after, their eyes locked as Renly pulled Loras’ hips towards him, squeezing every last inch of pleasure out of Loras’ body. It was clearly not all Loras had been after this afternoon and yet Loras made the best of it, leaning his forehead against Renly's as Renly worked through his own release and whispering Renly's name back into his mouth. 

And for all his bravado earlier, Loras was as limp as a wet rag when Renly recovered enough from his release to scoop him up and take him to bed. He lay in Renly's arms as calmly as anything, his curls damp with sweat as they stuck to his forehead. One would never have guessed that only hours earlier he'd been adamant he would fight in a melee. 

He did have a little strength left to protest though, and he laughed softly as Renly pulled the covers up over them, tucking the silken sheets around Loras' neck. "It’s the middle of the day,” he argued. 

“And?” Renly laughed.

“And… nothing,” Loras conceded. Rolling over onto his side, he leant his cheek against Renly’s shoulder, a hand playing absent-mindedly with the hair across Renly's chest. It was too hot really to be curled up together in the daytime, Renly thought, and yet Renly just held him a little closer, safe in the knowledge that there were two locked doors, half his guard and the entire of the Red Keep between Loras and the Mountain. 


	119. Chapter 119

It was Renly’s hunger that woke him, his stomach rumbling loudly. Yawning, he rolled the heavy weight that was Loras off of him, stretching his limbs out wearily and trying to ignore the gnawing pain in his empty stomach. Judging from the light outside, it was now early evening, and pressing a kiss into Loras' hair that was gentle enough not to wake him up, he pulled himself out of bed. His first instinct was to pull the covers up over Loras' bare shoulders to keep him warm, but letting his eyes roam over Loras' naked form, only half hidden under the blankets, Renly decided to leave him as he was.

He splashed his face with cold water before he dressed, wishing now that he'd managed to find time for either breakfast or lunch today. As it was though, yesterday's feast was the last time he'd eaten, and whilst he'd certainly been served enough food then to suffice for three meals, that was little comfort now.

He called loudly for Alyn when he was dressed, exiting his chambers so that he could avoid having Alyn see Loras. He didn't have to wait long, and within moments, the door from Alyn's adjoining quarters was opening and Alyn's tall figure appearing in the doorway. He looked a little embarrassed, his cheeks slightly red, and Renly tried not to dwell on the fact that he'd probably heard Loras' not-so-muffled cries earlier.

"Yes, my lord?" Alyn asked.

Renly ran a hand through his hair, wishing now that he'd combed it. "Can you arrange that dinner is brought up? I don't think I've ever been more hungry in my life."

Alyn laughed. "Apologies, my lord, I should have seen that you woke early enough to break your fast."

Renly shrugged. "It's no matter," he told him, touching a hand to Alyn's shoulder. "But dinner would be much appreciated."

Alyn nodded, and went upon his way, hurrying down the corridor. He paused in the doorway though, turning back to Renly with a knowing look upon his face. "I gather you and Ser Loras have made up then, my lord."

Renly paused too. He looked quickly away. "I don't see what that has to do with anything."

"I'll just bring dinner for one then?"

Renly didn't have it in him to correct him, and sharply, he nodded.

 

* * *

 

Alyn brought dinner for two regardless, laughing nervously that Renly "might be hungry enough for two." Whilst this was possibly true, however, it didn't explain why he'd brought two plates, two goblets, and two sets of knives and forks. It didn't explain either why Alyn had knocked very cautiously on his chamber door and waited for Renly to come out himself rather than delivering the meal straight to his table as he usually would.

Renly didn't complain though, and he made no mention of the fact that everything had been brought in a pair as he took the meal from Alyn.

Loras had long woken up, and he laughed at the awkward exchange outside the chamber door, he for one finding it very amusing that Alyn had brought two of everything. He found Renly's embarrassment even more amusing, and he teased Renly relentlessly as they ate their meal, a terrible smirk upon his face as he stretched out across the sheets, quite happy to dine upon Renly's bed rather than sat up to table.

"Really, Renly," he laughed, placing his now empty plate on Renly's bedside dresser and rolling over onto his side. "If you're intent on being so uncomfortable about this, you should have told me to put a sock in it."

"But you were enjoying yourself," Renly groaned. "I didn't want to be mean." Taking a last mouthful of food, he placed his plate next to Loras' and joined him in stretching across the bed. Loras, however, was still naked, and Renly felt distinctly over-dressed next to him.

Loras must have agreed with him, and smirking, he undid the fastenings on Renly's doublet one by one until it was entirely undone at the front. Yawning, he stroked his hand across Renly's chest, pushing the silken fabric of his doublet aside so he could touch more of his bare skin. He looked quite content there, and after a few moments he rested his head against Renly's shoulder, his hand still tracing gentle circles across his chest and a lazy smile upon his face.

Renly smiled too as he watched him. "What are you thinking Loras?” he breathed.

He expected to hear that Loras was thinking that he had a truly remarkable chest, or that he looked particularly strong this fine morning, but Loras’ reply took him aback.

“I was thinking how much nicer this would be if you were smooth,” Loras told him with a soft laugh, laying his cheek against Renly’s chest and rubbing his face against the skin.

“Smooth?” Renly echoed, his brown furrowing. “Why would you want me to be smooth?” Rolling Loras over onto his back, he looked at Loras’ own chest, bruised black and blue as it currently was. Aside from a trail of very fine hair that led from his navel to his groin and that was only really noticeable when Renly ran his hand over it, his torso was perfectly smooth. This was of course because Loras’ body had yet to fully mature, and quite honestly, Renly had been looking forward to when Loras got his proper hair.

“Well it would feel nice if you were smooth,” Loras said simply, teasing a few fingers over one of his nipples. “You’ve got this beautiful body and all this nasty hair in the way.”

“Nasty hair?” Renly laughed, giving Loras a sharp poke in the ribs. “What’s it ever done to you?” He looked down at his own chest. He’d always been quite proud of his hair, and he’d always enjoyed how it felt when Loras ran his hands through it. “Do you want me to trim it?” he asked. He thought back with some horror to when Loras had insisted he trim the hair around his cock. It hadn't been a particularly pleasant experience as far as he remembered.

Loras shrugged. “It still wouldn’t be smooth.” He kissed Renly’s chest gently. “Perhaps I could shave it for you.”

Renly raised an eyebrow. “Why would you want to shave it?”

“So it would be smooth, and so I could kiss it all over.”

Renly sighed, looking down at his chest again. He had yet to understand Loras' desire for it to be smooth. “Well I guess if you’d like that…”

“I would like that,” Loras smirked, and with that he rolled over onto the offending chest, kissing Renly properly on the mouth.

 

* * *

 

The prospect of Loras taking a razor to anywhere but his face wasn’t a pleasant one, and Renly managed to avoid it for the next few days, claiming tiredness so that he could have an early night or insisting that he had letters to write.

On the fifth day, however, Loras cornered him whilst he was in the bath. "I'll wait for you to get out," he said cheerfully, stepping around the bath screen and sitting himself down on the side of the tub, "And then surely you'll be able to find some time for me."

Renly stifled a groan. He could certainly find time for Loras, but he knew what Loras really meant to say was that he would surely be able to find time for Loras to take a razor to his chest. Sinking further into the water as if he could disappear into it, he nodded.

"And it's perfect timing," Loras said with a sly smile. "Your skin will be all soft after your bath."

"Mmm," Renly agreed. "Perfect indeed."

Loras laughed, playing with a lock of Renly's wet hair that had fallen over his forehead. "You know, Renly, you could sound a little bit more enthusiastic about it. It's not like I'm going to hurt you."

Renly gave him his widest, most mocking smile. "What makes you think I'm not enthusiastic about it?" He splashed Loras with a little of the soapy bath suds, amused when Loras had to wipe it out of his hair.

"Thank you for that," he said, eyebrow raised. He looped his arms around Renly's wet shoulders and tried to pull. "Now come on, you've been in this bath for a half hour already. You're perfectly clean now."

Renly laughed. “Just ten more minutes,” he argued, trying to dig his heels rather ineffectively into the metal bottom of the bathtub as Loras pulled. It was good enough though, and Renly was pleased to see that he was winning their little tug-of-war. Perhaps it was just that he was heavier than Loras. He was just debating whether he'd have any luck trying to pull Loras into the tub clothes and all, anything to stall his chest being shaved bald, when they were gloriously interrupted by a knock on the door.

Rolling his eyes, Loras let go of his arms and retreated to back behind the screen. He sat down at Renly's writing table.

"Alyn?" Renly called. "Is that you?"

"Yes, my lord."

"You can come in." For once, Renly was almost quite pleased about the prospect of having Alyn and Loras in the same room as each other. Loras, he knew, wouldn't dare to bring out a razor whilst his squire was there also.

Alyn pushed the door open and Renly beamed at him. "It's lovely to see you, Alyn," he laughed.

Alyn looked a little confused at his good-cheer. He knew all too well that he was usually expected to make himself scarce on those days when Loras had taken up residence in his chambers. He glanced, baffled, from Renly to Loras, shifting from one foot to the other.

“Thank you, my lord,” he said, bemused.

“And what news do you bear me?”

“You’ve been summoned to a small council meeting, my lord.”

Renly frowned, rising from the tub and stepping into the towelling that Alyn quickly held out for him. They’d had a small council meeting yesterday. They weren’t due one for another day at the very least. He sighed, arranging the painted screen so that he could dress without being watched by either Alyn or Loras.

“Do you know what the occasion is?” he asked, as Alyn passed him clothes over the screen. "Or is Ned Stark just being too fond of his work as always?" Irritably, he pulled his breeches on and fastened the laces before moving on to his doublet- a lovely black velvet with gold stitching around the cuffs which was one of his favourites.

“Well I haven’t been told officially,” Alyn said, “but the talk of the castle is that Daenerys Targaryen is with child. The king’s rage apparently was audible even in the courtyard.”

Renly raised an eyebrow, stepping back out from behind the screen. That, he thought, was very poor tidings indeed, dangerous tidings that would have Robert frothing at the mouth for days. Even Ned Stark would not be able to calm this storm, Renly thought bitterly. If the girl birthed a son, a Targaryen with a Dothraki Khalasar behind him was not a pleasant prospect.

He glanced over at Loras. His face mirrored Renly's own.

“She’ll be dead now within the week no?” he said lazily, leaning back against the back of his chair.

Renly shrugged. “Quite possibly. Robert will certainly demand it. He'll _have to_ demand it.”

But his brother was going to do more than demand it, Renly thought warily to himself as he left his chambers. Knowing Robert, he would probably be so blinded with fury that he'd want to pick up the nearest axe he could find and go after the unfortunate girl himself, roaring with rage.

 

* * *

 

Renly arrived at the same time as Littlefinger and for once it was almost in solidarity that they entered the small council chambers a little cautiously. It seemed that Renly wasn't to be disappointed by Robert's rage. The king’s booming voice was already audible, and as they passed the two sphinxes they saw that it was Ned Stark he was arguing with. It was terrible, but Renly felt a little bit of smug satisfaction to see the northern man in Robert's bad books for once.

Varys, Barristan Selmy and Pycelle were already in their seats, sitting stoically. Renly and Littlefinger joined them.

"Robert, I beg of you," Stark was pleading, "Hear what you are saying. You are talking of murdering a child."

"The whore is pregnant!" Robert’s fist slammed down on the council table loud as a thunderclap. "I warned you this would happen, Ned. Back in the barrowlands, I warned you, but you did not care to hear it. Well, you'll hear it now. I want them dead, mother and child both, and that fool Viserys as well. Is that plain enough for you? I want them dead."

Renly refused to meet his gaze, twiddling his thumbs uncomfortably as he stared determinedly at the table. Robert, he knew, was impossible to handle when his blood was up like this. Glancing sideways, he saw that all the other councillors were doing exactly as he was. Only Ned Stark was foolish enough to try and take on the storm that Robert had become.

"You will dishonour yourself forever if you do this,” he was saying, his cold grey eyes boring into Robert.

Robert seemed not to care and he thumped the table again, making it shake. "Then let it be on my head,” he roared, so loud that Renly thought his ears might be damaged. “So long as it is done. I am not so blind that I cannot see the shadow of the axe when it is hanging over my own neck."

"There is no axe," Stark insisted, sitting up straighter in his chair. "Only the shadow of a shadow, twenty years removed . . . if it exists at all."

Renly said nothing. He disagreed with the Hand. It wasn't a shadow in the Targaryen girl's womb but a child, a child who could easily grow up into a man with an army behind him. Varys, however, was braver.

"If?" the eunuch asked softly, wringing his powdered hands together. "My lord, you wrong me. Would I bring lies to king and council?"

He looked quite offended but Ned Stark looked at Varys coldly. "You would bring us the whisperings of a traitor half a world away, my lord," he said. "Perhaps Mormont is wrong. Perhaps he is lying."

"Ser Jorah would not dare deceive me," Varys said with a sly smile. "Rely on it, my lord. The princess is with child."

"So you say. If you are wrong, we need not fear. If the girl miscarries, we need not fear. If she births a daughter in place of a son, we need not fear. If the babe dies in infancy, we need not fear."

 _That’s a lot of ifs_ , Renly wanted to say, and Stark's words could easily have been phrased differently. If Varys was right, Robert would have to fear, if the girl didn't miscarry, he would have to fear. If she birthed a son, he would have to fear. If the babe survived infancy, he would have to fear. Ned Stark seemed quite assured that these ifs becoming truth was unlikely, but really, Renly thought, the prospect of a healthy girl birthing a son wasn’t a grand stretch of the imagination. After all, every man sitting at the table was a culmination of those ifs. And even if it was a girl that Daenerys birthed, Renly mused, it would only be a matter of time before she was with child again.

"But if it is a boy?" Robert insisted, echoing Renly’s sentiments exactly. "If he lives?"

"The narrow sea would still lie between us,” Stark said. “I shall fear the Dothraki the day they teach their horses to run on water."

That, Renly tended to agree with, but either way he had to admit that the idea of a male Targaryen left a bad taste in his mouth. Viserys frightened him little; from all reports, he was a fool of a man who was laughed at wherever he went. But a Targaryen with the fearlessness of a Dothraki, that was another thing entirely. It was a risk that Robert could surely not afford to take.

Robert took a swallow of wine and glowered at Ned Stark across the council table. "So you would counsel me to do nothing until the dragonspawn has landed his army on my shores, is that it?"

"This ‘dragonspawn' is in his mother's belly," Stark argued. "Even Aegon did no conquering until after he was weaned."

Renly had to stifle a chuckle at that, but Robert seemed unamused. "Gods!” he cried. “You are stubborn as an aurochs, Stark." He looked around the council table. "Have the rest of you mislaid your tongues? Will no one talk sense to this frozen-faced fool?"

Varys gave the king an unctuous smile and laid a soft hand on the Hand's sleeve. "I understand your qualms, Lord Eddard, truly I do. It gave me no joy to bring this grievous news to council. It is a terrible thing we contemplate, a vile thing. Yet we who presume to rule must do vile things for the good of the realm, however much it pains us."

Renly shrugged. The problem here, he thought, was that Stannis had never finished the job he’d started. Robert had stained his reputation with the murder of Rhaegar’s children, and once that had been done, he might as well have dealt with the other Targaryens too. As unpleasant as it was, Rhaegar's siblings should have been taken care of long long ago if Robert had intended to sit the Iron Throne without the fear of a Targaryen rebellion. After all, if the pendulum had swung the other way and it had been the Mad King who still sat the throne at the end of Robert's rebellion, it was almost a certainty that Robert, Stannis and himself would have been to the sword.

"The matter seems simple enough to me,” he said. “We ought to have had Viserys and his sister killed years ago, but His Grace my brother made the mistake of listening to Jon Arryn."

The Hand turned his icy gaze on Renly now. "Mercy is never a mistake, Lord Renly," he replied. "On the Trident, Ser Barristan here cut down a dozen good men, Robert's friends and mine. When they brought him to us, grievously wounded and near death, Roose Bolton urged us to cut his throat, but your brother said, ‘I will not kill a man for loyalty, nor for fighting well,' and sent his own maester to tend Ser Barristan's wounds." He gave Robert a long cool look. "Would that man were here today."

Renly thought that a poor argument, seeing as Barristan Selmy was unlikely to usurp Robert’s throne.

Robert, though, had shame enough to blush. "It was not the same," he complained. "Ser Barristan was a knight of the Kingsguard."

"Whereas Daenerys is a fourteen-year-old girl." Stark said vehemently. "Robert, I ask you, what did we rise against Aerys Targaryen for, if not to put an end to the murder of children?"

"To put an end to Targaryens!" the king growled.

Renly thought Stark did perhaps have a point there, but unfortunately, whilst having an admirable moral compass, Eddard Stark seemed to have no understanding of necessity. He didn't seem able to see the threat that Daenerys and her unborn child posed to the realm. What they were contemplating _was_ vile, it _was_ terrible, but it was a necessary evil. Oddly though, it was an unnecessary evil that Robert seemed to almost take pleasure in.

"Your Grace," Stark continued, "I never knew you to fear Rhaegar." The scorn was evident in his voice. "Have the years so unmanned you that you tremble at the shadow of an unborn child?"

He’d crossed a line there, and Renly watched warily as Robert turned purple with rage, his face swelling up as if he’d been stung by a bee.

"No more, Ned," he warned, brandishing a fat finger in the Hand’s face. "Not another word. Have you forgotten who is king here?"

"No, Your Grace," Stark replied coolly. "Have you?"

"Enough!" Robert bellowed, and Renly felt the table shake under his hands. "I am sick of talk. I'll be done with this, or be damned. What say you all?"

Renly paused as Robert looked at him, rather flattered that it was his opinion Robert was seeking first. “She must be killed," he said with a shrug. Unfortunate as it was, men and women died everyday, and Daenerys Targaryen had to be one of them.

"We have no choice," murmured Varys when it was his turn. "Sadly, sadly . . . "

Ser Barristan Selmy was next and he raised his pale blue eyes from the table reluctantly. "Your Grace," he said quietly. "There is honour in facing an enemy on the battlefield, but none in killing him in his mother's womb. Forgive me, but I must stand with Lord Eddard."

There was no great surprise there, Renly thought. A knight of the Kingsguard as honourable as Barristan Selmy could hardly declare that he agreed with the killing of a fourteen year old girl. It was his duty almost to leave the scheming and the plotting to the other counsellors, those who had no white cloak to stain.

Grand Maester Pycelle followed, and he cleared his throat loudly, a process that seemed to take some minutes. "My order serves the realm, not the ruler," he said slowly. "Once I counselled King Aerys as loyally as I counsel King Robert now, so I bear this girl child of his no ill will. Yet I ask you this—should war come again, how many soldiers will die? How many towns will burn? How many children will be ripped from their mothers to perish on the end of a spear?" He stroked his luxuriant white beard, infinitely sad, infinitely weary. "Is it not wiser, even kinder, that Daenerys Targaryen should die now so that tens of thousands might live?"

For the first time, Renly thought he and Pycelle might see eye to eye. He did think, however, that Pycelle could have said all this without taking an age.

"Kinder," Varys agreed. "Oh, well and truly spoken, Grand Maester. It is so true. Should the gods in their caprice grant Daenerys Targaryen a son, the realm must bleed."

Littlefinger was the last. As everyone looked to him, he stifled a yawn. "When you find yourself in bed with an ugly woman, the best thing to do is close your eyes and get on with it," he declared. "Waiting won't make the maid any prettier. Kiss her and be done with it."

Renly frowned. That, he thought, was a little distasteful. Indeed, each and every counsellor looked a little uncomfortable.

"Kiss her?" Ser Barristan repeated, obviously aghast.

"A steel kiss," said Littlefinger.

Robert turned to face his Hand. "Well, there it is, Ned. You and Selmy stand alone on this matter. The only question that remains is, who can we find to kill her?"

"This Mormont craves a royal pardon doesn’t he? Renly reminded them.

"Desperately," Varys said, "yet he craves life even more. By now, the princess nears Vaes Dothrak, where it is death to draw a blade. If I told you what the Dothraki would do to the poor man who used one on a khaleesi, none of you would sleep tonight." He stroked a powdered cheek. "Now, poison . . . the tears of Lys, let us say. Khal Drogo need never know it was not a natural death."

Pycelle's sleepy eyes flicked open at that. He squinted suspiciously at the Varys. Poison, apparently, was something that only he alone was allowed to know anything about.

"Poison is a coward's weapon," Robert complained though, and Renly had to stifle a laugh there. He too admitted that the girl had to die, but he wasn’t foolish enough to then worry about finding an honourable way to go about the deed. As far as he was concerned, it made no difference if the girl was given a formal execution or if she was trampled by one of her khal’s horses.

Stark seemed to agree with him. "You send hired knives to kill a fourteen-year-old girl and still quibble about honour?" he asked in disbelief. He pushed back his chair and stood. "Do it yourself, Robert. The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword. Look her in the eyes before you kill her. See her tears, hear her last words. You owe her that much at least."

“ _Very practical_ ,” Renly murmured under his breath, but nobody seemed to hear him. He was rather glad of it.

"Gods," the king swore, the word exploding out of him as if he could barely contain his fury. "You mean it, damn you." He reached for the flagon of wine at his elbow, found it empty, and flung it away to shatter against the wall. "I am out of wine and out of patience. Enough of this. Just have it done."

The Hand’s usually icy eyes had a little heat for once, and he turned to face his king with a bravery that Renly thought unwise. "I will not be part of murder, Robert,” he said sternly. “Do as you will, but do not ask me to fix my seal to it."

For a moment Robert did not seem to understand what Stark was saying. Defiance was not a dish he tasted often. Slowly his face changed as comprehension came. His eyes narrowed and a flush crept up his neck past the velvet collar. He pointed an angry finger at Ned. "You are the King's Hand, Lord Stark,” he roared. “You will do as I command you, or I'll find me a Hand who will."

"I wish him every success." Stark unfastened the heavy clasp that clutched at the folds of his cloak, the ornate silver hand that was his badge of office. He laid it on the table in front of the king, and Renly had to admire his gall. "I thought you a better man than this, Robert. I thought we had made a nobler king."

Robert's face was purple. "Out," he croaked, choking on his rage. "Out, damn you, I'm done with you. What are you waiting for? Go, run back to Winterfell. And make certain I never look on your face again, or I swear, I'll have your head on a spike!"

Every man in the room knew that the King meant not a word of that, but Stark obeyed as if Robert actually intended to put his head on a spike. He bowed, and turned on his heel without another word.

Renly stared after him, slightly impressed. He certainly wouldn’t have had the audacity, or the foolishness, to behave so to Robert. He did wonder whether or not Stark meant what he said though. Being Hand of the King was not something one set aside lightly.

By the time he’d turned round though, Pycelle was already speaking, his low calm tones obviously intended to calm Robert.

"On Braavos there is a society called the Faceless Men," he was saying, and Renly groaned. He’d almost forgotten the existence of the so called Faceless Men. When he’d been younger, he’d often been told stories about them. He remembered little of them, but he did remember that they were rumoured to be more costly than a small kingdom.

"Do you have any idea how costly they are?" Littlefinger indeed complained. "You could hire an army of common sellswords for half the price, and that's for a merchant. I don't dare think what they might ask for a princess."

“Too much,” Renly laughed. “I don’t wish to rain on anybody’s parade, but we have little gold just lying around in our coffers.”

Robert thumped the table. “You sound like that insolent, ungrateful, frozen fool, Renly. I don’t care how much it bloody costs. I don’t care if you have to sell Storm’s End, so long as she's dead!”

Renly wasn’t fazed and he smiled innocently at Robert. “Perhaps you could sell Dragonstone instead,” he suggested mildly. “Whoever you sell it to might be kind enough to take Stannis off our hands too.”

Robert, for once, wasn’t amused. A scowl erupted on his face. “Keep your tongue behind your teeth, Renly, he spat. “What would you know of anything. You’re just a boy.”

Renly had to fight not to roll his eyes. “With all due respect your grace," he said as calmly as he could manage. "I am into my third decade. I’ve as many years as you had when you ascended to the throne.”

Robert scoffed, drinking deeply from a new goblet his squires had come from placing at his elbow. “Years mean nothing. What do you know of war, _of death?_ Of stamping out Targaryens?”

Renly forced himself to say nothing, knowing better than to argue, and eventually Pycelle came to Renly’s rescue.

“Your grace,” he murmured. “Perhaps it would be wise though to not spend gold where more... _economical_ methods may be found.”

Littlefinger smiled in agreement. “And faceless men are not exactly known for their punctuality. The kill is made when they choose it to be made." He swilled the liquid in his own goblet. "We need her dead now.”

Renly shrugged. “Can’t we send a brute to do it for us?” He grimaced. “Can’t we send that Mountain of Tywin Lannisters. He seems to have little regard for honour. I’m sure he’d be quite delighted to hack another prince or princess in two. He took care of the rest of them after all.”

Robert growled at him, his bread dripping with wine. “Don’t you start, Renly.”

“I was being quite serious,” Renly said mildly. And maybe this fierce Khal Drogo would kindly hack the Mountain in two once his khaleesi princess was in pieces, Renly thought bitterly to himself.

“Hmm,” Littlefinger hummed. “Stealth is what we need, not brutish strength. I think it better that we quietly make it known that we’ll reward whoever does her in. A title or so will do, I imagine. There must be many in Essos who are daring enough.” Littlefinger turned to Varys. “I’m sure, Lord Varys, that you could quietly spread the word that we’d like the Princess dead.”

“ _Princess?_ ” Robert boomed. “She’s no princess.”

“Excuse my slip of the tongue, your grace,” Littlefinger smirked. He turned again to the eunuch. "Lord Varys?"

"Yes," Lord Varys murmured. "A simple task. I shall send out ravens tonight. To a select few of my friends. They will see that it is done."

"Good," Robert spat. He rose violently from his seat, his chair scraping the floor offensively and his huge stomach almost upsetting the table. Nobody said anything as he made his way towards the door; each man biding his time until Robert had taken his leave and they could do so too.

Robert, however, stopped in the doorway. “And Renly,” he snapped, turning to face them, his face still purple. “I’ll want you for a hunt. I need to stick my damned spear in something before I stick it in Ned.”

"Yes Robert," Renly agreed, half-heartedly at best. Hunting with Robert whilst he was in a rage like this was not something he was eager to do. 

"And if anyone sees that insolent fool, tell him I want him out of the city by nightfall. Tell him to run back to bloody Winterfell with his tail between his legs."

Once more, nobody said a word.


	120. Chapter 120

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not going to lie, had severe writer's block with this one! I'm aware that I probably won't please everyone with some of the choices I made in this chapter, but I'm ready to defend them! ;)

As glad as Renly was to escape the small council meeting, he wasn’t in much of a hurry to return to Loras either, and so in spite of the many things he ought to be getting on with, he took his time through the corridors, dawdling as much as he could and stopping often to admire the views out over Blackwater Bay. It was only when he imagined that Loras would have given up waiting for him in favour of taking his midday meal that he dared to return.

Even so, Renly made sure to be cautious. As he left Traitor's Walk and entered through the door that led to his quarters, he looked first one way and then the next before proceeding. He then knocked as quietly as he could on Alyn’s door just to be on the safe side. For all Renly knew after all, it was quite possible that Loras was still lying in wait in his chambers. Whilst Alyn didn't know this yet, it was Alyn who was going to make sure that the coast was clear on his behalf.

It took a while for his squire to open the door and Alyn looked like he’d been having a small sleep when he finally appeared before Renly. Yawning, his hair was a little ruffled on one side and Renly couldn’t help but laugh at him.

“Surely not abed at this hour, Alyn?” Renly jested.

Alyn merely smiled at him, stifling another yawn. “Of course not, my lord," he said, the lie evident in his words.

Renly smiled back regardless. “Brilliant," he chuckled. "In which case, could you do me a favour?”

“I don’t do you favours, my lord,” Alyn laughed. “I’m your squire. I do exactly what you tell me to do.”

“Even better,” Renly grinned. “Well right now I’m telling you to go into my chambers and see if there’s anybody in there.”

Alyn looked a little bemused at that, but he went anyway, Renly turning to watch him go. He couldn't help but feel a little apprehensive as his squire opened the door to his chambers and disappeared inside, but then Alyn was returning, shaking his head. Renly finally felt able to let out a sigh of relief. It had only been a quick look that Alyn had taken but even Loras wouldn't stoop as low to hiding under the bed or something, Renly thought cheerfully to himself.

“They’re empty, my lord," Alyn informed him unnecessarily as he returned.

“Lovely,” Renly smiled, “Just lovely. Exactly what I wanted to hear. But I might work in my audience chambers this afternoon. Just for a change.”

Alyn looked equally as bemused at that but he made no comment. "Of course, my lord," he agreed, as if it were usual that Renly would sit in his private audience chambers when he had no audiences to give. "I’ll have a meal sent in shall I?”

“Yes that would be perfect.” Renly paused at the door to his audience chambers. “And Alyn?”

“Yes?"

“If anyone wants to see me, I’m not here.” Renly met his squire's eye intently to make sure he'd got the message. Loras, he knew, was bound to come looking for him as soon as he'd eaten. It was a matter though of merely throwing him off the scent, for even Loras wasn't able to read his mind, Renly thought cheerfully to himself. He would be at a loss to guess where Renly might have gone, and within the Red Keep the possibilities were so endless that it might take him hours and hours to track him down.

Rubbing his hands gleefully together, Renly waited for his squire to nod before chuckling at his own brilliance.

 

* * *

 

 

Surprisingly, Renly got rather a lot done in his audience chambers. He'd just finished composing a letter to Penrose, however, when he saw the door creak open out of the corner of his eye. Praying it was Alyn as he turned around, he almost groaned to see Loras in the now open doorway. Usually he'd have been a very welcome sight, and whilst Renly had to admit that he looked just as glorious as he always did, Renly would have rather seen anyone else standing before him.

“Holed up in here are we?” Loras commented slyly, shutting the door behind him as if it was the door to a cage and Renly was a bird. “Why might that be?”

Sighing, Renly leaned back against the back of his chair in defeat. “Never you mind," he laughed. "More to the point, how did you know I was holed up in here?” He'd only been in his audience chambers an hour or so, and he hardly thought this the first place Loras might choose to look.

“Your squire told me,” Loras said bluntly.

“My sq-“ Renly got up and yanked open the door that Loras had so carefully closed. “You wait here,” he told him. “I need a word with someone.”

“Fine,” Loras smiled coyly. "I'll be waiting for you in your chambers. And no running away from me this time.”

“Fine, fine," Renly groaned, running his hands through his hair as Loras swept past him and headed off to his chambers. As soon as he'd seen Loras shut the door behind him, he called loudly for Alyn, wondering as he waited whether Loras would be too angry if Renly were to creep up to his chambers and lock Loras inside them.

Alyn appeared promptly this time, and Renly had only got so far as to take the key to his chambers out of his pocket. He slipped it back inside the lining of his doublet wearily.

“Yes, my lord?" Alyn asked. He appeared quite innocent before Renly, as if he wasn't at all aware what he'd done wrong, and shifting from foot to foot, he seemed to be awaiting new orders eagerly.

Renly sighed heavily. “I gave you one order earlier," he said. "Pray remind me what it was.”

Alyn laughed. “That I don’t tell anyone that you’re in. And I won't, my lord, I promise. Even if the king himself comes looking for you, my lips shall be sealed."

Renly raised an eyebrow. “So why have I just received a visitor?” he inquired.

Something near realisation dawned on his squire's face. “But it’s Ser Loras,” Alyn protested.

Renly frowned. “ _And?”_ he asked in disbelief. "I asked you not to tell _anyone_. Do you know the meaning of anyone, Alyn?"

Alyn had the grace to look at least a little guilty. “Well Ser Loras is different,” he said hurriedly in his defence “He’s _not_ just anyone. You always want to see Ser Loras. And he’d have known anyway if I was lying. He always know if I'm lying in the training yard."

Renly had to laugh at that despite himself. "When do you lie to Loras in the training yard?" he asked curiously.

Alyn looked even more uncomfortable. "Well, you know," he said, looking down at his shoes, "Ser Loras always wants me to have practised things. Parries and manoeuvres, and footwork, that sort of thing. And I do, but often not as much as he would like."

Renly sighed, shaking his head a little fondly. “I really need to teach you how to lie don’t I?” he chuckled. He rolled his eyes. “Now run along now. I shan’t be wanting you for the next week at least if that’s how well you follow orders.” He grinned at him a little cruelly as he gave Alyn's shoulder a sharp nudge. "Perhaps you'll even have time to practise the exercises Ser Loras gives you this week."

“Yes, my lord,” Alyn said meekly. And with that, he disappeared off down the corridor as Renly had bid him, his head hung low.

Renly watched him go before he turned around, and still debating if he was silly not to have locked Loras in his chambers, he pushed the door open reluctantly.

 

* * *

 

Loras was waiting for him as he'd promised, stretched out lazily on the bed in nothing but his breeches, like a big cat lying in wait for its prey. He glanced up when he heard the door open and like a lion pouncing, was instantly on his feet, tugging Renly over to a chair by the window where he'd no doubt have good light. Indeed, Renly's heart sunk in his chest to see that Loras had already lain out Renly's own shaving materials neatly on a little table, everything neat and prepared.

“Undress,” Loras instructed, still smiling his rather cruel smile at him.

Reluctantly, Renly pulled off his tunic, resigning himself to what was to come. Loras took care of the linen under-shirt, tossing it carelessly onto the floor.

“Now sit," he demanded, pushing down on Renly's shoulders.

Renly rolled his eyes. “Watch your tongue,” he chastised even as he sat down heavily in the chair Loras had guided him to. “I’m the lord here."

“Mmm,” Loras hummed, kneeling beside Renly and running his hand fleetingly across the top of Renly's breeches. “A soon to be naked lord.”

Renly laughed. “If you like, Loras.”

Loras smiled up at him coyly through long lashes. “I _do_ like," he said softly. He took Renly's hands then in his own, rubbing his calloused fingers over Renly's much smoother palms. It was a fond gesture and one that was evidently intended to put Renly at ease, or lull him into a false sense of security perhaps. "Good meeting?" he asked, continuing making small circles in Renly's palms.

Renly groaned. “No," he sighed, thinking back reluctantly on what had possibly been the most uncomfortable small council meeting he'd sat through. He then bit back another sigh as Loras took clear advantage of the fact that Renly was distracted, picking up a small cloth and dipping it a bowl full of shaving lather.

"And why's that?" Loras asked, kneeling up to dab a little of the lather across Renly's chest.

"Because the Hand of the King decided that today was the day he ought to tell Robert what a bloody awful king he is and resign his position," Renly told him with a rueful laugh. "I think something about Robert trembling at the shadow of an unborn child came into it at some point."

Loras raised an eyebrow. “Lord Stark is lucky he still has a head," he murmured, filling in the areas he'd missed with yet more lather.

Renly shrugged. “Robert will rant for a few days but he won’t do anything. He adores the man.” Quite why Robert adored Ned Stark though remained a definite mystery to Renly. As far as he was concerned, the Northern man didn't appear to have done anything of use in the past thirteen years. Even Stannis, with his dull demeanour and stubborn sense of duty, had been slightly more useful as Master of Ships.

A knowing smile came to Loras’ face, as if he knew exactly what was running through Renly’s mind. “You’re jealous?” he laughed.

Renly rolled his eyes and gave him a nudge. He must have missed Loras picking up the razor, and he watched warily as Loras neared him with it. He knew all too well how little experience Loras had with a razor. Whilst he’d take one to his face for special occasions, it certainly wasn’t a daily occurrence for Loras, and Renly winced Loras put a steadying hand on his shoulder, the blade almost to his chest. It looked very sharp. Unnervingly sharp.

“Are you sure this won’t hurt?” he asked.

Loras smirked at him, his grip tightening on Renly's shoulder. “Only if I slip.”

Closing his eyes, Renly let out a sigh as he felt the blade make contact with his chest. He was determined not to look as Loras scraped his manliness away little by little, and yet he found it more painful not to watch, the tiny little scratching sounds enough to convince him that Loras was about to slice off a nipple, or at least leave him with a visible scar. Wearily, he opened his eyes, thinking it better after all that he at least keep a close eye on Loras and his blade.

“And you prefer me like this?” he asked dismally.

“Mm-hmm.” Loras answered, tongue between teeth in concentration, his hand steady as he focused.

Renly rolled his eyes. “If you want hairless, maybe you should find a little boy. Tommas Fossoway perhaps.”

Loras' eyes flicked up towards him. “I want you.”

Renly was tempted to argue, but as it was, he just sighed heavily and let him get on with it, watching as little by little his chest became smooth. Bitterly, he wondered what Robert would think if the king had been privy to his and Loras' doings today. He'd called Renly a boy this morning, rather scathingly so, and yet Renly thought his brother would take even that back if he could see him now. A little girl, he'd call him, a little girl who'd never been to war and could never be a man.

“My brother thinks that anyone who hasn’t been to war isn’t a man,” he confessed after a few moments to Loras, hopeful at least for a little sympathy. “He treats me as if I’m a spoilt child.”

He'd been too hopeful apparently, for Loras just smirked, mirth dancing in his eyes before he looked quickly away.

“Oh,” Renly raised an eyebrow, laughing under his breath. “And you’re not? _Loras Tyrell, the Knight of Flowers?_ How many wars have you fought in?" He gave him a sly nudge, very aware how much Loras would give to be able to go to war. "Oh, and how much did your father pay for that armour of yours?"

Loras rolled his eyes. “Hold still," he muttered.

Renly smiled in silent victory and held still as Loras finished the little area that he had left, watching carefully in case Loras made a mistake. As it was though, the gods appeared to be on Renly's side. Loras' hand was as steady as it was in a joust, his fingers deft and clever. He made quick work of the rest of the hair on Renly's chest and Renly breathed a sigh of relief as Loras finally patted the excess lather off him. He was about to sit back in his chair and relax when Loras pulled his arm up.

Renly felt his face contort. “ _Everywhere?_ ” he asked in surprise. His chest, Loras had said. Nothing had been mentioned of other areas.

“Everywhere," Loras confirmed bluntly.

Renly stifled a groan, but he held his arm up for him all the same.

“So," Loras asked, coating the hair under Renly's arm in a thick lather. "How did it end up? The Targaryen girl will die?”

Renly bit back a sigh. "Needs to be done, unpleasant as it is," he told him, wondering if Loras, whose precious Margaery was of an age with Daenerys, might look differently upon the killing of a young girl. "Robert’s rather tasteless about it though. Every time he talks about killing her I swear the table rises about six inches.”

Loras smirked. “Only six?”

Renly rolled his eyes. "Twelve then," he chuckled, "Happy now?"

Loras merely grinned at him, eyes sparkling with amusement as he pressed the razor to the delicate skin beneath Renly's arm. “It’s a shame he can’t muster the same enthusiasm for his wife,” he commented.

Renly snorted. “He does have a deep abiding lust for her money," he argued. "You have to give it to the Lannisters. They may be the most pompous ponderous cunts the gods ever suffered to walk the world but they do have an outrageous amount of money.”

Loras' eyes were dancing again. "I have an outrageous amount of money," he pointed out.

Renly laughed. Whether Loras was talking about himself or his family, Renly didn't know, but it was true all the same. “Not as much as the Lannisters," he teased anyway.

Loras just smiled, eyes still shining with amusement. "But a lot more than you," he chuckled.

Renly couldn't argue with that, and rather than spend the next hour feeling inferior, he quickly changed the subject. "Robert’s threatening to take me hunting with him,” he told Loras wearily, his arm aching slightly from having to hold it up for so long. “Last time we were out there for two weeks, tramping through the trees and the rain, day after day, all so he could stick his spear into something’s flesh.” He sighed heavily, remembering with a little bitterness how miserable he'd been, courtesy of Loras having refused to return to King's Landing with him. "But Robert loves his killing, and he’s the king.”

“Mmm,” Loras hummed, finishing off under Renly's arm, scraping each tiny hair away. “How did that ever happen?"

“Because he loves his killing," Renly supplied. "And he used to be good at it." He thought back to the brother he'd once idolised, the brother who had slain Rhaegar Targaryen on the banks of the Trident amidst a shower of rubies. That was the man for whom women across the realm would have given all their possessions in exchange for a single kiss. Oddly, Renly imagined, Robert had probably been the Loras of his day, the man that maids young and old swooned over in their beds. Robert would never been as elegant as Loras, but he'd have been strong, the muscles rippling in his arms and through his chest as he'd wielded his hammer with a force that would have made most men buckle.

"He was a mighty warrior," he told Loras sadly, a little nostalgic. "But he's far from a mighty king."

Loras paused and he was suddenly serious, his gaze fixed intently on Renly's face, razor finally back on the table. “I wish you’d been the eldest of your brothers," he said quietly.

“Why’s that?” Renly laughed, finally feeling free to lower his arm. “Don’t tell me you now that you want your men to be both hairless and old?”

Loras didn't laugh. “No," he breathed. He took Renly's hand and guided him to his feet, placing both his hands on his bare shoulders.

"Then why?" Renly asked, curious more than anything.

Loras didn't answer immediately. Instead, painfully slowly, he reached down to lay a hand on the laces of Renly's breeches. One by one, he pulled the each lace out of each consecutive hole, until Renly's breeches hung loose around his hips. Gracefully, he then sunk back onto his knees, hands sliding Renly's breeches slowly down.

“Because you’d have been a wonderful king," he whispered, bowing his head.

He would make a wonderful king, Renly thought absently to himself as Loras' mouth encased him in its velvety warmth. Kind where Aerys had been cruel, fair where Robert had been indifferent, he'd have been the greatest king for many an age if he'd had the good fortune to have been born the eldest of Steffon and Cassana's sons in Robert's place. He'd have been adored by the common folk as he was adored by them now and he'd have surrounded himself by wise advisers, those men who might deserve their place on the small council. Pycelle and Varys would have been dismissed, Littlefinger and Stannis never employed to begin with, and it would have been a honest group of men Renly might have chosen to counsel him, those worthy of his trust. The realm would have been a different place under his rule, Renly thought. A better place.

He was just imagining a crown of gold nestled into his hair when Loras' fingers gripping his hips tore him from his thoughts. He stared down at Loras, still knelt before him, and wondered how he could have possibly been daydreaming. Indeed, Loras’ mouth was wet and warm, and most certainly worthy of his complete attention. Renly bucked up into it gladly, closing his eyes as he listened to the soft wet sounds of Loras’ lips caressing his cock.

“Turn towards the light,” Loras murmured after a few moments, his fingers playing absent-mindedly with Renly’s foreskin, tugging it down to reveal the wet pink tip of Renly’s cock before kissing it gently.

Renly frowned down at him. He saw no reason to move, not when Loras was on his knees between his legs. “Why?” he asked. “I’m content here.”

Loras had evidently not counted on a refusal and strong hands merely gripped Renly’s thighs and nudged him around. “So I can see better,” he whispered.

Renly threw his head back in dismay. “Why do you need to see better?” he groaned. “You could suck my cock in the dark.”

“Yes,” Loras agreed. “I could. I do in fact. Often.” He pressed another wet kiss to the tip of Renly’s cock. “Now hold still and be quiet.”

Renly felt his frown carve itself deeper into his face; he then shuddered as he saw Loras pick up the bowl of lather. “Not everywhere?” he breathed in alarm. This, he thought, was a step far too far for his liking.

He saw a pout form on Loras’ lips. “You’ve already asked that," he said tartly. “And I told you, everywhere.”

“But surely not _everywhere_ everywhere?" Renly asked. He'd most certainly have locked Loras in his chambers if he'd known quite how far Loras was planning to take this. Gods, he'd have probably ridden for Storm's End in all haste if Loras had told him of his bizarre plans.

“How many meanings of everywhere do you know, Renly?” Loras smiled cruelly. He dabbed some of the lather around his cock, and before waiting for Renly to consent, glided the razor across the section of skin where Renly’s thigh met his groin, taking tiny little strokes.

"Only one," Renly admitted dryly. "I suppose you'll also be shaving the hair on my head then?"

Loras narrowed his eyes at him. "Stop being silly," he reprimanded. "I shan't shave any place that anyone but me shall see. What I'm doing here is for my eyes only, Renly."

"But all the same, it's not right," Renly protested. "I'm a man. I'm supposed to have hair. And lots of it too. It's not normal what you're doing."

Loras smirked up at him. "None of what we do is normal, Renly," he pointed out scathingly. "So I suggest if you want to be _normal_ , you find yourself a nice wet cunt to stick that cock of yours in and leave me in peace. I'm sure a maid will please you as well as I."

He had a point; none of what went on between he and Loras behind closed doors was normal, and yet this, Renly thought, was unnecessary. Neither of them could help what nature had made him desire, but Loras insisting on his hairlessness, that was another question entirely. He and Loras had managed just fine for almost three years; the hair on his body had harmed neither of them. It certainly hadn't prevented Renly from satisfying Loras very well and very often.

All the same, Renly didn't bother arguing with the man he knew to be as stubborn as a donkey. He resigned himself to standing as still as he could lest Loras slip, his heart beating in his ears like a drum, visions of the blade slicing through his prick running through his mind. He'd be a laughing stock, Renly thought, if anyone saw him now, and vaguely he wondered if he ought to have simply put his foot down and told Loras no. He was half-tempted to do so now, and yet looking down, he was surprised to see how much progress Loras had already made. Being half-bald was worse than being bald, Renly decided.

“Renly?” Loras’ voice made him startle and he was lucky that Loras was merely applying more lather at that point in time.

“What?” Renly asked irritably.

“Why isn’t your cock stiff anymore? It was much easier like that.”

Renly rolled his eyes. “Well excuse me if having a blade inches from my cock isn’t my idea of a good time,” he laughed dryly, wondering if Gregor Clegane had knocked the sanity out of Loras back on that tourney ground. “What do you want me to do? _Make_ it stiff?”

“Yes,” Loras said bluntly. “That would be helpful.”

“Well I can’t,” Renly told him.

“Hmm.” Loras had put his tongue back between his teeth, a sure sign that he was concentrating. “Well just hold it out of the way for me then.” He tugged down on Renly’s hand and Renly found himself being handed his own cock, limp and flaccid as Loras had so kindly informed him. "Just hold it up against your stomach,” Loras instructed. “I want to get the hair beneath it.”

Renly might have disobeyed just to make a point, but glancing down, he quickly decided that it was in his own interest to hold his cock up out of the way. Holding onto it for dear life, he used both hands to shield his member from the blade in Loras' hand. Cut fingers, he could deal with, Renly thought. But a cut cock, that was another question entirely. It was something though that was becoming more and more likely by the second, and Renly grimaced as he felt the skin at the very base of his shaft being pulled taught. It was quickly followed by the cold slide of the razor.

His balls were next and whilst Renly had thought he couldn't possibly feel more vulnerable, he was quickly proved wrong. His cock at least hadn't needed to be shaved, but Loras was insistent that his balls did, even though Renly had never thought he had much hair there. He tried not to wince as the very delicate skin was pulled taught in preparation.

“I warn you Loras,” Renly growled, “If your hand slips here I’ll be blaming you when I fail to get a child on my wife.”

Loras smirked, one hand resting on Renly's thigh as he knelt between Renly's legs. “Perhaps that’s my plan,” he whispered slyly, “After all no woman would marry a eunuch. I'd have you all to myself.”

“You dare,” Renly warned.

Loras' smirk grew and he pressed a kiss to the skin he was about to shave. “I shouldn’t worry, Renly,” he breathed, “It’s not in my interest either that you be a eunuch.” Very carefully, he touched the razor to the skin he was holding taught, one hand manoeuvring his balls expertly whilst the other wielded the blade. To his credit at least, he was quick, and Renly felt like his thighs might give way from sheer relief as he saw the razor deposited back on the table and Loras get finally to his feet.

Taking a step back, Loras admired his handwork briefly before putting his hand on Renly's shaven chest. “Turn around will you," he instructed.

Baffled, Renly turned around. “What now?” he whined. Quite honestly, he'd thought they were done, and that he could get back to liking Loras again.

“Just bend over a bit," Loras said softly, and applying pressure to his back, he forced Renly to bend.

Renly braced himself against the back of the chair. “Loras,” he growled. "Why am I bent over?"

“Because I’m not finished yet," came the infuriating reply, and Renly heard the bowl that contained the lather being picked up again, the clinking noise of china in Loras' hands unmistakable.

Renly caught on quickly and he tried to whip round. Firm hands, however, held him in place. “I don’t even have any bloody hair there, Loras," he protested.

“Mmm, yeah you do,” Loras laughed. “Not much, I’ll grant you, but some.” Before Renly had time to argue, he was bent down again, a wet cloth in one hand and the razor in the other. It was quite clever, Renly thought dismally. Loras must have known that he'd never dare struggle when Loras had what was essentially a knife held between his legs. He therefore merely braced himself as Loras spread his arse cheeks wide and dabbed some of the lather between them. Bent over though with his legs apart and Loras crouched beneath him, Renly didn’t think he could ever feel more foolish.

“Is the door locked?” Renly hissed.

“I’ve no idea,” Loras laughed. “Don't ask me. You came in last.”

Renly winced at the truth in his words. "You go and lock it this instant,” he snapped impatiently, thinking he'd long earned the right now to be a little short with Loras.

Loras evidently disagreed and he slapped Renly's arse a little sharply, just hard enough so it stung. "Yes, _my lord_ ," he said insolently. But he went, and Renly was relieved when he heard the sounds of both the key turning in the lock and the heavy bar being pulled across the door. He felt a little better then, assured that nobody but Loras would ever see him in such a humiliating stance, and yet the relief only lasted until Loras was back between his legs, crouched down and inspecting.

“Just hold still,” he told Renly, surprisingly gently this time. "It’ll be over soon.”

Renly felt the cold press of cold metal again. “Soon?” he groaned. “Thank the gods.” The siege of Storm's End had felt longer, Renly thought.

“And then I’ll make it worth your while,” Loras pressed a kiss to the base of Renly’s spine as he took the final few strokes with the razor. “Promise.”

“You’d better,” Renly warned.

“Mmm,” Loras hummed, stroking a warm hand up the back of Renly’s thigh. “Of course I will.” He pressed a kiss to one of Renly’s arse cheeks and wiped off the remainder of the lather from around his entrance with a hand. He then put a hand through Renly’s legs and ran it over his groin. He was evidently satisfied with his work and he stood up, tidying the shaving materials away.

Stiff from being still for so long, Renly stretched, feeling his joints crack. He looked down at himself and grimaced. Completely bald, he looked like he had done when he was ten. Tentatively, he touched himself. It felt strange and yet not unpleasant, he supposed.

Loras caught him touching and he smiled. “Told you you’d like it,” he said, coming to stand by his side. He looked down too. “Doesn’t it look nice?”

Renly didn’t answer. Personally, he disagreed. He thought he looked ridiculous. He tried to put it out of his mind though, determined to make the best of the favour Loras now owed him. He was still soft, but he was quickly hardening under Loras’ gaze, the echoes of Loras’ promises echoing in his mind. Sharply, he inclined his head downwards, giving Loras his instructions. And safe in the knowledge that the razor was safely stowed away now, he felt comfortable enough to close his eyes when Loras reached out to touch him, one finger tracing gently around the edge of his foreskin.

He almost growled when Loras withdrew his hand. “Please say you’re going to do more than that,” he groaned. "I deserve a whole week's worth of your tongue right now."

“Patience,” Loras reprimanded, but he did obey more or less. Gripping Renly’s length with his whole hand, he gave Renly’s cock one firm tug, sliding the skin back until the pink tip was revealed and then sliding it forward again. His tongue between his teeth, he trailed his other hand down Renly’s now bare chest, lingering over a nipple before moving downwards.

He smirked up at Renly as his hand reached Renly’s groin, and sliding the other rhythmically along the length Renly’s cock, he spread his fingers wide, touching as much as the delicate skin as possible. It felt odd, Renly thought. Smooth, oddly tingly and very very sensitive. In fact, if he was honest, the sensation unnerved him a little, and yet he did his best to try to relax and enjoy it. Loras was never stingy with his affection, but it was clear he was going to be particularly generous with him this afternoon. His hands were everywhere at once, sliding across his chest, and up his back, meandering slowly about his waist and darting across his shoulders, but always returning to his cock.

Renly felt a little as if he was being worshipped, by many hands and a tongue, and deciding he might as well act like a god if Loras was going to treat him like one, he applied pressure to Loras’ shoulders, guiding him down onto his knees.

Loras didn’t fuss and wrapping his hand generously around Renly’s cock, he leant his forehead against Renly’s stomach, his curls tickling Renly’s bare skin.

Closing his eyes, Renly pushed gently up against Loras’ hand, groaning softly as Loras moved and his mouth slid across shaved skin, sucking and licking ever so gently, the fingers of one hand squeezing affectionately at his thighs. Loras’ lips felt strange as they kissed places they had never previously had access to and Renly surprised himself by actually quite enjoying the newness of the sensation. Novel as it was, It wasn’t quite enough though, and Renly pushed Loras’ head down, urging him on, hips jerking involuntarily as Loras obeyed and took the tip of Renly's cock between his lips. That was the sensation Renly had been craving, and desperate to roll his hips forward and press just that much deeper into Loras’ mouth, Renly did so, thinking he'd been tortured enough today to get away with it.

That, though, was a bridge too far for Loras, and whilst he didn’t reprimand Renly for surging up into his mouth, strong hands quickly migrated to the hollows in Renly’s hips, holding him there firmly. He was letting Renly know that he hadn’t appreciated that, and Renly felt suddenly guilty, in spite of all he'd endured today at Loras' hands.

“Sorry,” he murmured, eyes still squeezed closed.

Loras said nothing, but one hand left Renly’s hip to slide up the flat plane of his stomach, fingers spreading wide across the skin.

Renly opened his eyes then, glancing down. His breath caught in his throat to find Loras staring back at him and Renly groaned at the sight of him. His brown eyes were dark, intent, and his lips were shiny and wet around Renly’s cock. He was appreciative of Renly’s gaze; that much was clear, and as if Renly had challenged him, he pressed down, further and further, never breaking eye contact as he took Renly's cock deep into his throat.

Renly shuddered, unable to break the gaze either. Loras’ throat was tight, hot and wet, and his whole body trembling and noises escaping from his throat that he couldn't prevent, Renly tried to _regain_ some of his composure. It was an impossible task, and Renly could see that Loras was far too aware of this for his own good. His eyes were sparkling with the knowledge of his own skill and Renly knew that he would be smirking if his mouth hadn’t been occupied.

“ _Loras…_ ” Renly breathed. “I can’t… Not for much longer.”

Loras withdrew slowly, his eyes still locked on Renly’s as he drew back, the head of Renly's cock eventually falling from his mouth with a soft _pop_. Bowing his head then, he took a few moments to get his breath back, his curly head rested against Renly’s hip as his hand trailed across Renly’s groin. Shifting to rest his cheek against Renly’s skin, he played with Renly’s balls idly, fingers dancing against the now smooth skin, gently tugging.

Oddly, that seemed to calm Renly a little and he carded his fingers through Loras’ hair as he tried to prevent himself from spilling his seed into Loras' curls. “You’re lovely,” he told him. "In spite of the monster you've been to me today."

“I know,” Loras laughed breathlessly, and sharply, he stood, hands sliding up Renly’s sides as he got to his feet. He flicked Renly’s cock rather fondly as he drew himself up to his full height, and Renly looped his arms around Loras’ chest to pull him in to kiss him. He winced when he found that Loras tasted of his seed, screwing his face up at the bitterness.

“I don’t taste very nice,” Renly whispered apologetically into Loras’ mouth.

“I disagree,” Loras breathed, leaning heavily against him, his hands wandering round to grip Renly’s arse. “You taste like you.”

“And you like that?” Renly murmured, burying his nose in Loras’ hair.

“Mmm,” Loras hummed. “And honestly, Renly, for the noises you make when you’re in my mouth, I’d lap up poison.”

Renly laughed, making Loras curls flutter as if a breeze had carried through the room. "I make those noises when we fuck," he pointed out.

"Yeah but it's different," Loras murmured, squeezing Renly’s arse with both hands and pressing a kiss to his neck. "When you're inside me, it's more selfish. _I'm_ more selfish. I can't focus on just your pleasure, not wholly. When I take you like that, though, it's because I want to make you feel good," As if to illustrate his point, he wrapped his hand back around Renly’s cock and pushed him back in the direction of the bed. “Sit,” he ordered smugly, pushing him back against the pillows and smiling when Renly acquiesced.

Renly had expected Loras to want him to lie on his back, and he was mildly surprised when Loras rolled him over onto his stomach. He was even more surprised when, slipping his hands underneath Renly, Loras applied pressure to Renly’s hips, pulling them up. Groaning, Renly took the hint, shifting onto his hands and knees despite feeling a little silly like that. He’d been expecting some sort of reward for his good grace but all he got was Loras pushing his shoulders down until Renly consented to collapse forward onto his elbows. His arse now slightly in the air, Renly had to wonder for the second time that afternoon if it would be possible to feel more undignified.

“Loras…” he groaned.

Loras just laughed, hands sliding down Renly’s sides rather satisfyingly. It was only then that Renly received his reward for his humiliation, and Renly startled as Loras leant between his legs to mouth at his balls. It felt strangely good, slightly ticklish though, and Renly tried to relax as Loras drew one into the velvety warmth of his mouth, sucking gently.

“Don’t you dare bite me,” Renly chuckled breathlessly, closing his eyes in bliss. 

Loras laughed at that, one ball still cradled in his mouth. That really did tickle and Renly winced. Supporting himself on one elbow, he reached behind him and gave Loras’ shoulder a nudge. Loras took the instruction and placing one last kiss to the tender skin, drew back slightly. It was only a very brief withdrawal though and Renly shivered as Loras licked a hot wet stripe from the base of his cock across his balls, his skin tingling as if being warmed by a satisfyingly warm flame. 

It was only when Loras continued, the meandering path of his tongue coming dangerously close to his arse that Renly began to feel uncomfortable. “Um Loras…” he murmured, his own voice trembling oddly even to his own ears. “What are you doing?”

“Just be quiet,” Loras whispered. “You’ll like it.” Very gently, he pressed his lips to Renly’s entrance and Renly shuddered involuntarily, tensing. It was an odd sensation and not one that Renly wanted to get to know better. It was rare that he ever felt ill at ease with Loras and yet now was one of those times. Loras was pushing the boundaries of what he was comfortable with too much. 

“ _Loras,_ ” he warned, his voice dropping an octave. “Stop it. Too far.”

Loras ignored him. He just ran his hands up the inside of Renly’s thighs before moving them to his arse. Gently pulling apart his cheeks, he pressed his lips once more to Renly’s entrance. It was tentative though, his mouth all but ghosting across the sensitive skin as if he'd thought about heeding Renly's warning.

Renly took a deep breath and this time he didn’t tell Loras to stop. He felt uncomfortable but it was obviously something Loras wanted to do. Closing his eyes, he forced himself to stay still. After all, he wasn't certain either that he _disliked_ it. Loras seemed to grow braver from his silence, and spreading Renly’s cheeks further apart, he kissed Renly’s entrance like he might have kissed his mouth, sucking on the skin very gently as if it was Renly’s bottom lip.

Renly grunted, burying his face in his pillow as Loras buried his face in his arse. It was slippery and warm, and despite his initial discomfort, Renly found himself beginning to draw a little pleasure from it as he relaxed. It was the strangest thing Loras had ever attempted to do with him- something which he'd never even seen pictures of in that book back at Storm's End, and yet Renly remembered thinking Loras might lick him there once before. He supposed he ought not to be surprised now then at the fact that Loras' nose was pressed deeply into the crease between his arse cheeks.

Oddly, that image made Renly's cock twitch, and groaning slightly, he decided he might at well embrace what Loras was offering him. Taking a deep shuddering breath as Loras sucked particularly hard, he pushed back against Loras’ mouth, reaching behind himself to spread his arse wide to make it easier for him.

Loras chuckled at that, a small puff of air that felt briefly warm against Renly’s entrance before Loras’ tongue resumed its work. Renly helping him now, he removed one of his hands from the curve of his arse, moving it down until Renly felt fingertips teasing small circles around the wetness his mouth had left behind.

“Loras?" Renly murmured, though what he was trying to say, he didn't really know.

“Yes?” The word was spoken to his arse and Renly groaned as he felt Loras’ nose push further up against him.

Renly just grunted in response and eyes squeezing shut, he let out an odd low sound as one of Loras’ slippery fingertips pushed its way gently into his arse, stretching and probing tentatively. His cock was throbbing now, and desperate for Loras either to pay it some attention or else slide his finger in deeper, Renly rocked back against him. 

Loras obeyed only briefly, pushing his finger in until it was knuckle deep before sliding it immediately out again. Renly's arse felt oddly empty as Loras’ fingertip slipped out and yet before his muscles had had time to properly contract again, Renly shuddered to feel Loras’ tongue pushing up against it. He didn’t have time to think about whether or not that made him uncomfortable, and deciding not to bother, he let out a long groan as Loras’ tongue slipped slightly past the tight ring of muscles in the same way that his fingers so often did.

It felt good, so warm and slippery that Renly couldn’t deny it, and his legs turned to mush as Loras’ hand wrapped itself back around his cock, his grip as firm and strong as his tongue was tentative. It was too much and he only vaguely registered Loras rolling him onto his stomach to better work his cock before he tipped over the edge that Loras had driven him to, his entire body shaking as he submitted to his release.

It was a long one, waves of pleasure still throbbing through his body long after his actual release had ended, and too heavy to move, he barely noticed as Loras wiped his cooling seed off his stomach with a cloth.

“I told you I’d make today worth your time,” Loras said smugly as he laid his head against Renly’s shoulder.

His face was infuriating and Renly deliberately ignored him. Seconds later though, he couldn't help wrapping an arm tightly around Loras’ waist and offering to give Loras his own release. Loras, he supposed, was impossible to stay mad at for long.


	121. Chapter 121

Many hours later, Renly awoke and found he hadn’t moved. He was still stretched out naked across his bed; Loras was still next to him, and despite the fact that the room was now dark and that the moon was casting long eerie shadows across the walls, Renly had no intention of rising to close the drapes. Loras was too warm against him, his limbs were too heavy, and Renly imagined that even if the king himself had burst into his room to demand his presence, he’d not even have bothered to stir an inch.

It was raining now, and still half asleep, Renly listened to the sound of it outside. He’d evidently left one of the windows open and it was rattling in the wind, the frame banging back and forth loudly. Distantly, Renly thought he heard people shouting too, the sound faraway and fleeting as it was carried on the wind. He supposed that it was that which had woken him.

It made him uneasy, and looking once more at the shadows upon the walls, he shivered, the warmth he’d been basking in suddenly leaving him. Grasping futilely at the bedclothes he was lying upon, he moved closer to Loras, seeking the warmth and comfort of him.

“Loras,” he murmured, leaning over him and brushing the curls off of his forehead.

Loras merely groaned a little though, barely stirring at the sound of Renly’s voice.

“Loras,” Renly repeated softly. Shifting closer yet, he pressed a kiss to Loras’ slightly parted lips, willing him to wake. Loras was unresponsive and it was only when Renly stroked a hand through his hair and shook his shoulder a little that his eyes fluttered open. He’d evidently been deeply asleep and as Renly cradled him, he was limp in Renly’s arms, floppy like a rag doll and so sweet looking that Renly never would have believed that he’d tortured him with a razor merely hours earlier.

He was less sweet when he yawned, so widely that Renly could see all the way down his throat, and Renly laughed fondly at him.

“Loras,” he smiled, rolling Loras over onto his back and pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Wake up won’t you.”

Loras yawned again, more elegantly this time, his hand coming up to cover his mouth. “What?” he murmured.

Renly shifted to move atop him, elbows placed either side of him, their chests touching. The smoothness between them still felt strange but he tried not to dwell on it. “What’s the time?” he asked.

“You woke me up to ask the time?” Loras mumbled, trying to roll Renly off him and failing.

Renly smiled sheepishly. “Course not,” he said softly, planting a kiss on Loras’ bottom lip. “I woke you up to… to move you, because you looked cold and I thought you should get under the bedclothes.” He raised a hand to run it through Loras’ hair.

Loras groaned loudly though, swatting Renly’s hand away. “Save your lies for the court, Renly,” he admonished, voice heavy with sleep. This time he did succeed in rolling Renly off him, and stretching, he rose from the bed and went to the window.

Renly admired him silently, watching Loras’ muscles ripple in the moonlight and his curls flutter on the wind. He was still wearing his breeches, the laces loose where Renly had eased them down to give him his release earlier, and Renly sorely wished he were naked. As it was, he had to make do with studying Loras’ back: the way his shoulder blades moved as he walked, how his curls brushed the base of his neck with every step.

He paused when he reached the window, and Renly watched as he leant out, forearms rested against the sill.

“It’s almost dawn,” he said quietly, face tilted up towards the sky briefly before he fastened the window back in place.

“Dawn?” Renly laughed, watching Loras pull the drapes across. “How long have I been asleep?”

“Since the evening,” Loras told him. Crossing the room, he narrowed his eyes at him. “Unlike _some_ people, I didn’t want to wake you.” Still glowering, he lay back down, getting under the covers this time.

Renly joined him under the sheets, lying close and wishing he’d let Loras sleep after all. It wasn’t often that Loras was irritable with him, but it seemed that he’d been too content before Renly had prodded him awake not to be a little ill-tempered now.

“There were people shouting,” Renly told him anyway after a few moments lying in silence together. “It woke me.”

Loras yawned. “There was nobody shouting,” he mumbled, rolling away from him as he buried into the covers, a pillow tucked under his arm. “It was just the window that you heard, the wind playing tricks on your mind.”

Renly shrugged, not in a mood to argue. “Fine,” he sighed. “As you say.” He pressed a gentle kiss to the back of Loras’ head, rolling over too so that he could lie behind him. Loras said nothing to that, but he didn’t protest either when Renly moulded himself to the curve of Loras’ body, wrapping his arms around his waist.

 

* * *

 

 

Renly hadn’t been particularly tired but he must have dozed off all the same, for the next thing he knew he was jolting awake, opened his eyes as a loud rapping on the door echoed through his chambers. There were shafts of grey morning light now escaping through the gaps in the curtains and Renly groaned, untangling himself from Loras as quickly as he could. The arm that had been underneath Loras was numb now and Renly prodded it a little dismally. His touch elicited no response, and it was one-armed that Renly got up and slipped a robe on from his wardrobe.

Usually it was Loras who came to his chambers late at night but seeing as Loras was still asleep on his bed, stretched out half-naked under the sheets, Renly didn’t know what to expect as he pulled up the bar from across the door and opened it.

Using the door to shield Loras from view, Renly was surprised to see Ser Guyard outside. He too had evidently dressed in some haste, his green linen tunic all creased and his hair for once not neatly combed at all but in disarray across his forehead.

He was panting too and Renly wondered where he could have been hurrying from so late at night. He was the captain of Renly’s guard and yet, rather nobly born, he rarely did the night-time shifts himself.

“My lord,” he said eventually through heavy breaths. “I had to come and tell you at once. The guards I posted outside Traitor’s Walk, they roused me from bed a few moments past.” He took another desperate breath, leaning against the stone wall.

Renly laughed. “Slow down, Guyard,” he insisted.

“Well I had to see for myself before I came to you, but the Hand of the King, my lord. He was just brought into the Red Keep in a litter. By the Gold Cloaks. There was much blood. I saw them myself, conducting him into the Tower of the Hand.”

Renly raised an eyebrow, wondering if he’d understood correctly. “Eddard Stark’s been attacked?” he clarified, feeling his brow furrowing in a rather unbecoming fashion.

“Yes, my lord,” Guyard said breathlessly. “I saw the litter myself. With my own eyes. There were four gold cloaks, moving slowly. And the guards say that Lord Baelish was amongst them when they entered through the gates.”

For a brief moment, Renly wondered if Robert’s anger had got the better of him and he had struck Stark down for the insolence and ingratitude he’d shown him in the small council meeting today. It was a foolish thought though and Renly cast it aside. He knew far too well that if Robert had managed to control his temper well enough not to have killed Stannis during the last fifteen years, he certainly wasn’t going to start with Stark.

“Was he dead?” Renly asked cautiously.

“No, just wounded I think,” Guyard told him breathlessly. “There were bodies also carried in. He was the only one in a litter.”

Renly frowned. As Master of Laws he had a certain duty to see that the streets remained safe. Admittedly, King’s Landing would never be entirely safe for the smallfolk; there was only so much the Gold Cloaks could do, but he’d have liked to think that the likes of Eddard Stark could go about their business without risk of attack. “Who was he wounded _by?”_ he asked.

“I can repeat only rumour,” Guyard told him regretfully, “But the talk amongst the Gold Cloaks is that it was Lannister men. Ser Jaime Lannister’s men to be precise.”

Renly raised an eyebrow. “Can’t be,” he murmured. There was no bad blood he could think of between the two houses. It was clear why the Lannisters might be unnerved by Eddard Stark, for he was an icily fair man, one who had no time for the way that Cersei pulled on Robert’s strings, but it was not enough, not enough by far to constitute an attack on his life.

“But it is,” Guyard protested. “The City Watch brought him in and it was the Kingslayer they said. There was much talk of him fleeing the city amongst the sentries.”

“But why?” Renly mumbled, talking to himself more than Guyard. “Why would Lannister men attack Lord Stark?” And more importantly, Renly thought, why would they dare to strike out in the open. An attack behind closed doors, he could begin to believe, but to attack the Hand of the King in the street? It was another question entirely and had no answer which Renly could make sense of.

“I don’t know,” Ser Guyard admitted.

“Well _find out_ ,” Renly told him with a wry laugh. “Send every page boy and serving boy if you have to. Remove them from their posts and tell them to ask everyone they can find.”

Guyard bowed low. “Yes, my lord. Of course. At once.” He hurried off down the corridor.

“And Guyard,” Renly called after him, his voice oddly loud in the silence of the keep. “Double the guard tonight.”

Guyard gave him a rather serious nod before disappearing round the corner, and sighing, Renly shut his door, pulling the bar across with a satisfying thump. Guyard had brought ill tidings, he thought. King’s Landing was a veritable snake pit but very rarely did anyone move in the open. Blows were struck behind closed doors, behind the whisper of a rumour.

There was nothing Renly could do at present though, save to return to bed and wait, and turning, he was startled to see Loras sat up in bed, his curls wild about his face.

“How long have you been awake?” he asked, crossing the room and tucking one of the particularly rogue curls behind Loras’ ear.

“A while,” Loras told him, “I heard what Guyard said about Stark.” He frowned, stifling a yawn. “I refuse to believe that the Lannisters would be so bold though.”

“Me too,” Renly admitted. He got back into bed a little wearily. “It’s worrying if it’s true. Though of course the situation may play out very well into our hands if Robert demands that the Lannisters pay for their crime.” It was on the tip of his tongue to mention that it might aid them in persuading Robert to take a new queen, but remembering Loras’ irritable mood of earlier, he refrained.

“But what was that last thing you said for though?” Loras snorted, evidently unimpressed. “ _Double the guard tonight_.” He mimicked Renly’s voice rather accurately, his tone mocking.

Renly rolled his eyes. “Well I don’t like it,” he admitted softly. “The Lannisters are a decided lot of cunts but even I wouldn’t have believed them this brazen. Forgive me then if I err on the side of caution.” He managed a smile. “Besides, what is the point of having such a loyal guard if I can’t inflict a sleepless night on all of them from time to time?”

“Yes,” Loras agreed tartly, “But I’m here tonight. You don’t need a guard when you’ve got me.”

Renly smiled at him, slipping the robe from his shoulders and tossing it onto the floor before pulling the covers up to his shoulders. “You'll stand outside my rooms tonight then will you?”

Loras rolled his eyes. “If you like then I will,” he hissed. “I’d imagined that you might like to make the most of the time and effort I spent on you yesterday but it appears I was mistaken.”

Renly sighed fondly, and laughing, gave Loras’ head a nudge downwards. “Well feel free to pleasure me if you like,” he said evenly. “I assure you, I shan’t complain.”

Loras raised a scathing eyebrow at that but he ducked under the covers regardless and soon Renly felt strong hands on his thighs and the brush of curly hair against his stomach.

 

* * *

 

 

Renly was washed and dressed before there was any sign of Ser Guyard, the sun now fully over the horizon and Loras long having disappeared down the back stairs to his own chambers. It had only been when Renly had pulled his tunic over his head that he’d realised Loras had not been as thorough as he could have been, and now, pacing up and down his chambers as he awaited Guyard’s return, he couldn’t help but feel unbelievably foolish, as if onlookers might be able to see through his clothes and know that he was completely bare save for an untouched patch of hair under his arm.

When Guyard finally did appear though, he didn’t look at Renly suspiciously and neither did his gaze flick suddenly to the spot under his left arm.

“So?” Renly asked, folding his arms regardless, just in case. “Did you find anything?”

Guyard nodded. “Yes, there are rumours upon every lip, my lord. The keep is ablaze with talk that Stark’s wife has seized the Imp upon the Kingsroad.”

Whatever Renly had been expecting to hear it had certainly not been that. “What?” he laughed, sitting down heavily at his table and beckoning for Ser Guyard to join. “Catelyn Stark has seized Tyrion Lannister? Are you absolutely sure?” He leant across the table to better listen.

“Yes, my lord,” Guyard told him, taking the seat gladly. “Lady Stark is said to be taking him to Winterfell, in chains. She lays upon him the charge of sending a hired knife to kill her son.”

Renly raised an eyebrow. He’d heard no talk of this before. “Which son?”

“The crippled one, my lord.”

Renly mulled that over. He’d been told of the boy’s fall, apparently from the walls of Winterfell itself, and yet he’d never heard anything of hired knives. He could see no motive for an attempt on a crippled boy’s life, even by such a strange creature as Tyrion Lannister, and he wished suddenly that he was alike to Varys, or even Littlefinger, and that he had an army of spies at his back to find him out the truth, of little consequence as it was. For nobody save the Starks themselves would care an ounce for the truth, Renly imagined. It was how the matter appeared to Robert that would decide things: how and _if_ Robert decided to act. It would be Lannister against Stark, Cersei’s word against Eddard’s, and for once, Renly could not even begin to guess the path his brother would take.

He sighed heavily, “I wonder if it’ll be war?” he said. “Tell me Ser Guyard, what will happen when the queen and the Hand tear the king in two?”

Ser Guyard looked a little taken aback at the question. “I don’t know, my lord,” he said, abashed. “I am the captain of your guard, born and raised in the Stormlands. I shall fight all of your enemies, win any battle you send me into, but I know nothing of Starks and Lannisters and their quarrels.”

Renly smiled, biting back another sigh. “Perhaps I have too little faith in my brother,” he admitted, “Perhaps his grace shall see justice done, whatever that justice might be. Perhaps he shall tame both the wolves and the lions.”

“I’m sure he will, my lord,” Ser Guyard said. “He is a mighty and powerful king, the best who has sat the throne.”

Renly smiled wryly at that, and waving Ser Guyard from the room, burst into laughter as soon as he was gone. Guyard’s words, he thought, could not be further from the truth.


	122. Chapter 122

The news that Ned Stark had been wounded by Ser Jaime Lannister spread through the Red Keep like Wildfire and by midday it was the only topic of conversation. Everyone and anyone seemed to have their own little embellishments to make to what had allegedly happened, and sifting fact from rumour became more and more difficult. Lord Stark had been fleeing the city to join his wife, some said, while others insisted that he’d been attempting to drive a spear through the Kingslayer’s heart as Lady Catelyn would soon do the Imp. Even more strangely, some placed Littlefinger at the scene, and by that afternoon, the general consensus even seemed to be that the Hand of the King and the Master of Coin had been returning home from a brothel.

It was all very odd, Renly thought. He’d never have thought that Eddard Stark would be the sort of man to frequent brothels, let alone frequent them with Littlefinger of all people. It was decidedly strange, and Renly really would have liked to summon Janos Slynt to demand the truth, or at least as much of it that his Gold Cloaks could give him, which would undoubtedly be not much.

As the afternoon progressed, however, Renly found himself as incapable of leaving his rooms as Ned Stark apparently was.

Alyn found him later, sat by the window, desperately trying not to itch. He’d pinned his hands beneath him to try and diminish the temptation and yet Renly still felt the constant temptation. His skin was on fire, his clothes felt like they were rubbing the skin clean off, and Renly was left wondering why he’d ever even dreamt of letting Loras come near him with a razor.

“Are you all right, my lord?” Alyn asked, standing in the doorway and regarding him curiously.

Renly stifled a groan. He wasn’t all right, but he wasn’t about to tell Alyn that. It was far too embarrassing to admit what Loras had done to him, and as much as he was wanted to be able to put his trust to in his squire, he wasn’t about to risk those sort of stories circulating around his men. “Fetch me Loras,” he mumbled. “I need a word with him.”

“But it’s the afternoon, my lord. He’ll be in the training yard.”

“ _Yes_ ,” Renly said slowly, raising an eyebrow. “He will be. And I told you to fetch him.”

Alyn sighed. “Sometimes, my lord,” he confessed as he turned back around, “I think you really don’t like me.”

Renly found it in him to laugh at that. “Don’t say that,” he chuckled. “I like you very much. It won’t be too bad. Ser Loras doesn’t bite, you know.”

“I’ll take your word for it, my lord,” Alyn laughed, shutting the door behind him.

 

* * *

 

 

Renly had half expected Alyn to return empty handed, but he’d obviously underestimated him. It took Alyn longer to come back than it might have, but to his credit, he had Loras on his heels when he finally knocked on Renly’s chamber door and announced his arrival. As Alyn had evidently feared though, Loras did not look happy. He’d evidently been dragged straight from the training yard, and whilst he must have had time to remove his armour, his hair was still frizzy and crumpled from where it had been under his helm. He was glaring at Alyn.

“Thank you, Alyn,” Renly said, rising. “You can take your leave now.” He smiled at the look of relief his words brought to Alyn’s face and had to wonder just how much trouble Loras had given him during the short walk from the training yard to Renly’s quarters. A lot, Renly imagined.

Indeed, Loras rounded on Renly as soon as Alyn had shut the door. “What do you want, Renly?” he asked, eyes slightly narrowed.

Renly rolled his eyes. “Someone got up on the wrong side of bed this morning,” he mumbled.

“No actually,” Loras laughed, his expression softening. “I believe it was that _somebody_ woke me up just before dawn to ask me the bloody time.” He came to stand behind Renly, resting his hands on his shoulders. “Now tell me, what’s the matter? Why have I been _sent for_. ”

“I needed you for something,” Renly admitted, resting his forehead against his writing table in slight desperation.

“You know, Renly. You could be a little bit more specific with your request."

Renly laughed and wondered how it ever had come to this. “I need you to go to a maester," he admitted, "any maester, and fetch something, anything, that might help stop unbearable itching.”

Loras cupped a hand under Renly’s chin and lifted his head for him. He then moved round to face him, leaning across the table rather lazily. “I believe you have your own squire don’t you lord Renly?” he remarked sharply.

“Yes I bloody do, _Ser_ Loras,” Renly muttered. “But Alyn can’t be involved in this. So I’m taking back my knighting of you for a few moments. Heaven knows I didn’t give you enough to do when you were actually my squire. We can make up for lost time now.”

“I don’t think it works like that,” Loras laughed. He smirked at him across the table. “And it’s me who’s done this to you is it?” he asked. “How have I made you itch?”

“By taking off all my hair is how,” Renly groaned. 

Loras considered that for a moment. “Why would that make you itch?” he asked, his voice more curious than anything. Renly supposed that Loras had the luck to not be yet familiar with that part of shaving. He was a little envious of him. 

“Because that what happens when you shave and the hair starts growing back,” Renly said bitterly, crossing his legs as he was taken with another sudden urge to unpin his hands from underneath him. “You wouldn’t know because you’re still half a child.”

Loras blinked at that, evidently baffled. “Right,” he said slowly, in a tone that made Renly regret his words. “Well I’ll go to the maester now for you then.”

Renly just groaned his appreciation.  
  


* * *

 

 

It was a very long time before Loras came back, and unlike Alyn, he actually was empty handed. “I’m sorry, Renly,” he said as he slipped through the door. “But nobody had anything that might help. They all said that they’d need to examine y-“

“Nobody is examining anybody,” Renly said hurriedly.

“Which is what I assumed,” Loras laughed.

Renly sighed. “Well I’m grateful for the effort, Loras.” He paused. “And I didn’t mean to call you a child. It was petty of me.”

Loras rolled his eyes. “I shall recover from the slight.” He pulled Renly’s hands from out under his thighs rather sharply before tugging him to his feet. “Come on, you’ll be more comfortable in bed.”

He wasn’t, not in the slightest, and two hours later, Renly was pacing his chambers and cursing his misfortune. Loras had stayed to keep him company but even he seemed at his wit’s end now. Stretched out across Renly’s bed, he’d long run out of comforting words and encouragement to give him.

“You know, Renly,” he sighed, propping himself up on an elbow. “I wouldn’t have bothered if I knew you were going to be such a baby about it,”

Renly made a face at that. He knew that he was being petty. The Hand of the King was apparently lying in his chambers with a shattered leg, and here he was feeling sorry for himself. “But it itches,” he groaned anyway, collapsing onto the bed next to Loras. “Really really badly.”

Loras raised an eyebrow. “Still?” he asked. “Surely it can’t be _that_ bad.”

“But it is,” Renly protested. “It’s unbearable.”

Loras rolled his eyes. “Do you me want to scratch it for you?” he asked sweetly, voice laced ever so slightly with poison. 

Renly rolled his eyes back at him. “Not particularly,” he shifted onto his front and found a little relief in the press of the bed against his groin.

“So you’re just going to rut against the bed instead?”

“Precisely,” Renly groaned.

Loras smiled at that, rolling Renly over. “Surely it can’t be that bad?” Pulling the laces out very gently, he eased Renly’s breeches down. He ran a hand over Renly’s skin before raising an eyebrow. “Gods your hair grows,” he laughed. “It’s already a little rough.”

“It’s hair,” Renly said shortly. “What did you expect it to do?”

“Well I thought it might stay smooth for a few days or so?” 

Renly glanced down, the view still strange to him. “It still _looks_ smooth if that’s what you’re after,” he said hopefully, patting Loras' hand.

“Doesn’t feel it though,” Loras frowned, biting his lip. “Feels like your face just before dinner. You know, when you’re deceptively scratchy even though you shaved that morning.”

Renly sighed and rubbed a hand over his jaw a little self-consciously. He was unsurprised to find it more than a little scratchy. “Well I’m sorry,” he laughed wryly, “but my hair grows fast, Loras. Remember when I went to Dorne? I wasn’t able to shave for weeks then and I had the most impressive beard of all my men.”

Loras smiled as if he remembered it well. He ran his hand back over Renly’s groin. “Well that’s all right,” he said quietly. “Tomorrow we can just shave it again.”

Renly let his head flop back against the bed, feeling his face contort. He stared up at the ceiling dismally. Loras couldn’t have suggested anything that would strike more horror into him. Going through the ordeal that Loras had put him through yesterday once had been enough. He wasn’t about to do it twice.

“Loras,” he started wearily, still staring at the red stone of his ceiling.

“What?” Pulling Renly’s breeches up for him, he moved to sit astride Renly’s hips. Usually having him there made arousal pool in Renly’s stomach, but this time, Renly felt nothing but dread. He shifted uncomfortably underneath Loras, wondering how to tell him gently that he had no interest at all in a repeat of yesterday.

“We’re not doing it again,” he breathed softly, taking Loras’ hands in his own and squeezing them.

Loras’ brow furrowed as he looked down at Renly. “Why not?” he asked.

Renly took a deep breath. “Because I don’t like it.”

Loras merely bit down on his lip stubbornly. “What don’t you like about it?”

“Well…” Renly sighed, pondering how best to tell him. “I guess it’s just…” He paused. “You know what, Loras? It’s everything. I hate _everything_ about it. I hate the idea of it. I hate the way it feels, the way it looks, the way it itches unbearably afterwards. And if I’m quite honest, there’s plenty of more worthwhile things that I could be getting on with instead of sitting still while you shave me.”

Loras looked startled, his _face_ falling. “Well why didn’t you tell me you felt like that?” he asked stiffly, looking down at their hands, still entwined together.

Renly raised an eyebrow. “I thought I made it rather clear that I wasn’t exactly looking forward to it,” he pointed out.

“Well yes,” Loras admitted, squirming uncomfortably atop Renly’s hips. “But I thought you were playing with me, teasing. I didn’t realise you _hated_ it.”

“Well I do,” Renly sighed, and it certainly wasn’t a lie. “I absolutely hate it.”

“All right,” Loras said, shifting to lie beside Renly now. “Point taken.” He laid his head on Renly’s shoulder and sighed. “We won’t do it again then. You know, Renly, all you had to do was tell me no.”

“Is that so?” Renly laughed. “If I remember correctly, you were rather insistent about it.” He rolled over onto his side and put his hands in Loras’ hair. He found the itching was less unbearable now he was distracted, and carding his fingers through Loras’ slightly frizzy curls, he tried to keep it that way as he waited for Loras to reply.

Loras shrugged. “Yes, but I’m not going to make you do something you _hate_ ,” he mumbled, despite seeming to enjoy the press of Renly’s hands through his hair. “How mean do you think I am?”

It was Renly’s turn to shrug, and he then tried not to suffocate as a pillow suddenly found its way onto his face.

 

* * *

 

 

He and Loras didn’t leave his chambers until the next morning, but life couldn’t be postponed forever, and the as news reached him that the Hand of the King was yet to wake, Renly called for Janos Slynt. He knew that it was unlikely that the commander of the Gold Cloaks would be able to shed much light on the attack of the night before last and yet he was determined to try.

They met over dinner, and Renly kept the courtesies quick for once. It didn’t help of course that he still had the ever present urge to scratch rather unsuitable areas of himself and briefly put, Renly wanted to spend as little time as possible entertaining tonight. He didn’t much enjoy Janos Slynt’s company at the best of times, let alone when he still felt inclined to sit on his hands.

“I want you to tell me about the attack on Eddard Stark,” Renly told him as Alyn poured them both a cup of wine. “After all, I imagine you must have been told much of it by your Gold Cloaks.”

“Yes,” the man agreed, his jowls wobbling as he nodded. “Of course.” He took a long drink. “The wine is beautiful.”

“Mmm,” Renly agreed. “ _Eddard Stark_ , Ser Janos.” The wine was beautiful, a deep red from the Reach that Loras’ father had recommended, but he didn’t wish to discuss it.

“Yes, yes,” Ser Janos laughed, taking another sip as their plates were filled by a serving girl. “Well the Lord Hand owes his life to my gold cloaks, Lord Renly. He’d already lost much blood by the time that they arrived with a litter. I feel we should be commended.”

Renly chewed contemplatively, disliking the turn the conversation had taken. He hadn’t meant for Janos Slynt to seize an opportunity to be a little arrogant. “Mm,” he said agreed half-heartedly. “I do wonder though whether your Gold Cloaks might have arrived in a little more haste.” He smiled at Janos Slynt as best he could. “It seems a shame after all that they might have such an honourable commander and be so lacking in their duties.”

Janos Slynt’s chest puffed up at the compliment and then he seemed to take in the rest of Renly’s words. “Lacking in their duties, my lord?” he asked, fork half way to his mouth.

“Yes,” Renly said, fingers tapping the table absent-mindedly. “From what I’ve been told, and please correct me if I’m wrong, Lord Stark was attacked by Ser Jaime’s men a little after midnight. I don’t think it should have taken until dawn for him to be brought in.”

“My lord,” Janos protested, a little flustered. “But it took Lord Baelish quite some time to raise the alarm.”

“Mmm,” Renly hummed. “But seven men lying dead in the street, the Hand of the King amongst their bodies, and all in an area that your Gold Cloaks ought to have been patrolling. It makes me wonder.”

Janos Slynt pursed his lips, evidently not liking the accusation. “It’s a very large area we patrol, my lord.”

“Yes,” Renly said jovially. “Which is split into rather small sections.” He leant slightly across the table towards him, trying to keep the smile on his face. “You’ll find out which men were responsible that night for the particular area in which Lord Stark was attacked and you shall see that the man in charge is replaced with one who take his duties more seriously.”

“But-“ Ser Janos protested, his face a little red.

“No buts,” Renly laughed, gesturing to Alyn to pour them a little more wine. He knew exactly why such a proposition upset the rather fowl man before him. Promotions, he knew, were paid for and not earned under Slynt’s command. The man who Renly was suggesting be removed from his post had no doubt slipped many a coin into Slynt’s pocket.

“Have I made myself clear, Ser Janos?” he smiled.

“Yes, my lord,” was the reluctant reply.

“Good,” Renly laughed. He took another long drink. “Let’s eat and enjoy this beautiful wine then.”

 

* * *

 

 

Janos Slynt was surprisingly prompt in doing what he ought. The same unfortunately could not be said for the Hand of the King. Pycelle claimed not to know when he would wake, and as such, Robert retreated into the royal apartments to wait. For six long days he waited, refusing to receive anyone except the many whores that Littlefinger sent him.

Renly, meanwhile, was left to manage the Small Council in his and Stark’s absence, a task which Renly did not relish in the slightest. With Stark abed, Stannis in Dragonstone, Pycelle at Stark’s bedside, and Ser Barristan stood guard outside the Tower of the Hand, it left only Renly, Littlefinger and Varys in most meetings. Neither listened much to him, and Renly found himself sorely wishing that he was king instead of Robert, purely so that he’d have been able to choose more appropriate men to sit upon his council.

And so instead of getting much done at all, Renly found himself daydreaming through meetings, doing his best to take no notice as Lord Varys and Lord Baelish talked in riddles. One was a spider, the other slippery enough to be a snake, and Renly found himself imagining who he would have chosen if he’d been in Robert’s place. Penrose would have quite obviously been his Hand. He’d have recalled Cressen from Dragonstone to sit as Grand Maester, whilst Mace Tyrell might have been his Master of Coin, being Loras’ father and drowning in gold as he was. He supposed too that he _might_ have been able to bear Stannis as his Master of Ships. As for the other positions, he had not a clue. It did cross his mind many a time as he stared out of the window to choose Loras’ grandmother as his imaginary Master of Whispers, unsuitable as a woman was. Only Ser Barristan would have been in no danger of losing his seat, Renly thought miserably.

All clouds had their silver linings though. Robert seemed to have forgotten his desire to hunt, and when Ser Barristan had apparently suggested rather tentatively that he might go to take his mind off his Hand, it was said that Robert had flown into such a rage that nobody had dared speak to him for the entire evening.

 It was only on the seventh day that there was any news, and Renly rose to be told by Alyn that Stark had apparently woken during the night and that both Robert and Cersei had spoken with him.

Longing to know what had been said, Renly dressed in a hurry and as luck would have it, he saw Cersei ahead of him on the stairs as he descended. She had several white cloaks trailing behind her, and as Renly caught up with her and she turned briefly around to see who the footsteps belonged to, Renly had to look twice, unable to prevent raising an eyebrow or two.

The queen was beautifully dressed as usual, in a red silk that clung to her bust, and yet Renly had not been expecting the unsightly mark across her face. A deep purple, it bloomed from her nose all the way across her left cheek, slightly yellow at the edges and blue across the bone. Renly wondered who had struck her. It was a question that had only one answer though, for Renly knew that there was only one man in Westeros who would dare to strike a queen.

“Your grace,” Renly greeted. “How fares Lord Stark?”

“Very well,” she said icily, not even pausing on the stairs to look at him. “I imagine he shall be up and about on the morrow.”

“And yourself, your grace?” Renly asked with a smile, long strides allowing him to match her pace easily. He let his eyes linger on the ugly bruise on her cheek.

She pursed her lips. “Never better.”

Renly nodded. There was a very uncomfortable pause in which they both walked in silence and he didn’t take his eyes off her cheek.

“Was it Robert?” he breathed eventually, daring to meet her gaze.

Her eyes narrowed. “You presume too much, lord Renly,” she said quietly, sending icy chills up and down Renly’s spine. They’d reached the bottom of the stairs now and she took a tiny step towards him. For a fleeting moment, Renly had the odd feeling that she intended to strike him too, and yet he was even more surprised when she offered him her arm.

A little baffled, Renly took it.

“Lord Renly has offered to escort me to my chambers,” she told the White Cloaks behind her. “Leave us.”

Her arm felt strange in his and Renly found he had to slow his pace to accommodate hers. It was only then that he realised how unused he was to walking with a woman beside him. Loras, he knew, walked even faster than he did, despite having less length in his legs. It was strange and Renly felt more than a little uncomfortable beside her.

“Robert then?” he asked, meeting her eyes again. “Why?”

She touched a pale hand briefly to the dark mark across her cheek. “The king does as the king sees fit,” she said loftily.

“And he obviously saw fit to strike his queen today,” Renly murmured. “I find myself wondering why.”

Her lips twisted into a thin line, hard as steel. “Robert makes many strange decisions,” she said bitterly, “Unsurprising, considering the... _calibre_ of his council.”

The comment was evidently aimed at him and Renly laughed heartily, the bruise across her cheek making him brave. Indeed, he imagined that he’d be having the last laugh when Robert decided to take a younger, more agreeable bride from Highgarden. “Yes,” he agreed cheerfully. “I dare say that Robert’s council would not be your choice.” He paused contemplatively. “I’d imagine even that your grace might think it greatly improved, say, by your lord father as Hand and your brother as Lord Commander of the Kingsguard.”

The queen’s face was stony. “It could be greatly improved, Lord Renly,” she told him tightly. “Robert is surrounded by fools, cowards and little boys who don’t know where to put their cocks.”

Renly almost let himself flinch.

“Is he?” he asked coldly, all pretence of courtesy leaving him. “Well it’s a good thing that Robert himself knows where to put his cock then isn’t it? He has much choice, I hear.” He smirked at the sour expression that his words brought to Cersei’s face and leant in closer, tightening his grip on her arm. “You’d best be careful, your grace,” he murmured. “Time comes for us all, and Robert, I know, has a keen eye for youth.”

Cersei’s eyes never left Renly’s face. “Lord Renly,” she whispered, fingernails digging into his arm painfully and her voice as sharp as a knife in the dark. “If you ever threaten me again, it won’t be Lord Stark that Ser Jaime comes for.”

“Will it not?” Renly laughed. “I’ll bear that in mind, your grace.” Bowing low, he took his leave.


	123. Chapter 123

“You’re leaving?” Loras tone was unimpressed and when Renly glanced around, he saw that he was scowling at him from the bed, glaring out at him from under his curls.

Renly rolled his eyes. “I don’t have a choice,” he laughed, crossing the room and brushing Loras’ hair off his face for him. “Robert’s told me that I’m accompanying him and so I have to accompany him. He’s the king, Loras, and if he wants to hunt, he wants to hunt.”

Loras wrinkled his nose. “Well do you have to leave right now?” he whined.

Renly nodded, fastening his cloak around his neck and twisting to check his appearance in the looking glass. He looked good and Renly smiled at himself, arranging his hair so that it fell elegantly about his face.

“Right now?” Loras repeated. Rolling onto his back, he arched his back deliciously, rippling muscles pulling taught under the thin fabric of his small-clothes. He was a sight to be admired and Renly really rather wished that he had time to stay and enjoy it.

“Yes,” he chuckled all the same, bending to press a rather chaste kiss to Loras’ lips. “It has to be right now.”

Loras’ merely arched his back further, stretching like a cat. “But you haven’t fucked me in a week,” he murmured.

“And whose fault is that?” Renly laughed, raising an eyebrow. “Ah yes, I remember well. It was yours. You and that razor of yours.”

Loras rolled his eyes, shifting back onto his front to glare at Renly again. “Fine,” he conceded, “but don’t expect to get anything from me when you come back.”

Renly laughed fondly, perching on the edge of the bed to touch a hand to Loras’ hair. He wasn’t worried by Loras’ threat; he knew that come a few days’ time, Loras would be quite willing to give him everything and anything he wanted from him. Not once had Renly seen Loras deny him the use of his body for his pleasure.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” he asked with a sigh, twirling one of Loras’ curls around his finger. “Half of the rest of court is coming.”

Loras shrugged. “No thank you,” he yawned, tipping over onto his side lazily. “I’ve better things to do.”

Renly smiled, resisting the urge to shake his head in exasperation. “Like what?” he asked. He bent to give Loras another kiss. “Have you another man stowed away in this room of yours?”

“I wish,” Loras muttered. “I’m so desperate I’d try my luck with the eunuch right now.”

Renly laughed and took Loras’ hand. He guided it down to the laces on Loras’ breeches. “Here you go,” he grinned. “My replacement for while I’m gone.”

Loras rolled his eyes. “Just go,” he laughed.

 

* * *

 

 

Half of court was assembled by the time that Renly reached the courtyard. Renly was pleased to see though that Alyn had already saddled his horse and was ready and waiting for him, alongside most of his men. He was less pleased when he spotted Joffrey amongst those who had gathered, handsome in gold cloth and busy sneering at the stable boy who’d been unfortunate enough to have to help prepare him. His face screwed up in distaste, he was looking down at the poor lad as if it were dung underneath his nose.

Robert was at the very head of the column, and once Renly had mounted, he manoeuvred his horse around the many lords and knights and squires to catch up with him.

“Robert,” he called.

For the first time in weeks, Robert raised a smile. He even patted Renly on the shoulder when he was close enough like he’d often used to do when Renly had been a little younger.

“What’s got you in such a pleasant mood?” Renly laughed, shielding his eyes from the sun.

“They spotted a white hart this morning,” Robert said gruffly, “Not far from here. Not even as far as Rosby.”

That explained why Robert was so cheerful, Renly thought. A white hart was a rare find, one of the most majestic beasts in the forest. It probably made him just as happy as the prospect of leaving Cersei behind for a few days did. “And Lord Stark,” he prompted. “I hear he’s on the mend?”

Robert nodded. “He’ll be fine,” he said. “Pycelle says the bone is knitting back together already.”

Renly smiled at that. He was rather looking forward to when Eddard Stark was properly back on his feet. A stern and icy man though he was, he got things done, and the Small Council had been even more of a chore without him. Unlike Varys and Littlefinger too, he was at least an honest man, a reassuringly predictable man, and those were few and far between in King’s Landing.

They set off shortly, and despite being such a large group, they proceeded at quite some pace, Robert heading the column, Joffrey at his side despite his youth. Renly knew that he could have ridden alongside them too and yet he preferred to ride a little behind, out of the crown prince’s way in case he should throw a tantrum.

Ser Guyard and Ser Balon rode alongside him, and without Loras, Renly was glad for their company. Ser Balon returned far more often to the Stormlands than he did, and as such he was able to give Renly much news of Storm’s End and the surrounding land. It passed the time, and Renly found he rather enjoyed their ride through the forest, Robert’s banners streaming behind them.

They found the hart’s tracks just as the evening was falling, and whilst Robert was eager to press on, the huntsmen declared the failing light too poor. They would have better chance on the morrow, he insisted.

Robert seemed rather put out at that, but Renly felt quite cheerful as they set up camp in a nearby clearing, cheerful enough to even help Alyn with the pavilions. The weather was with them, for the night was warm and dry, and Alyn had even managed to find a spot far far away from both Joffrey and his dog. His men too had flocked to him, and there was a definite divide in the camp, Renly found. His men had commandeered one side of the clearing, Robert and his White Cloaks the other, whilst those men who had less ranking had been forced to the very edges of the glade, almost beneath the trees.

A fire was soon lit in both sides of the camp, and Renly was pleased to see that much food had been brought by the heavily laden pack horses that had followed behind them. Much meat was roasted upon the fire, and the wine too was plentiful, and the only thing missing, Renly found, was Loras’ presence at his side.

Even without him though, Renly couldn’t help but feel rather merry. He drank heavily, and even when Ser Guyard insisted on singing, he couldn’t find it in him to care. Alyn made sure that his goblet was never empty and Ser Narbert’s squire, who had taken charge of the food, made sure that his stomach was never empty.

Renly didn’t remember withdrawing to his tent, but he was certainly in it when he woke, the camp almost silent around him now, the merry singing replaced by the pleasant low hum of conversation. Renly was struck with the urge to join them, and his head spinning, he tried to get to his feet. He was very unsuccessful, and laughing, he merely collapsed back against his bed of furs, his legs feeling just about as solid as water.

A face swam into view above him then, and Renly tried to focus.

“Loras?” he asked, his tongue not seeming to work either.

“No, my lord, it’s Alyn. Ser Loras is still in King’s Landing.”

“Oh,” Renly laughed, blinking a little. “Well of course he is.” He tried to stumble to his feet and had to laugh again when Alyn guided him back down.

“Almost everyone has gone to bed, my lord,” he told Renly rather firmly, keeping a hand on his shoulder. “The only man still around the fire is Ser Gladden, and that’s only because he vomited in his own pavilion and he’s too drunk to care that it’s a little chilly outside now.”

“What a surprise there,” Renly groaned, for Ser Gladden was one of his men who could always be relied on to be almost as drunk as Robert. “And Ser Guyard? Where’s he?”

“He passed out not long after you, um, _fell asleep_ , my lord. He’s in his tent, as are all your other men.”

Lying back against his furs, Renly smiled wryly. “Don’t lie to me, Alyn,” he protested, his head still swimming. “I’m quite aware that I didn’t _fall asleep_. I was probably just as drunk as Ser Guyard unfortunately.”

“A lot more so actually,” Alyn corrected quietly, though there was rather a lot of fondness in his tone.

Renly grinned up at the fabric of his tent. “And I didn’t make too much of a fool of myself? I have a tendency to do that when I’m in my cups.”

“Not too badly, my lord,” Alyn assured him. “You only asked for Ser Loras once and I don’t think too many people even heard.”

Renly groaned. That, he thought vaguely, did not make him feel better at all. “Good to know,” he said, stifling a yawn. “Tell me, did they mock me once I’d, er, _retired_ to my tent?”

“No, my lord, of course not.” Alyn’s voice was rather reassuring and yet Renly found he didn’t believe him.

“And that’s the truth?” he asked.

“Really, my lord,” Alyn insisted, “they didn’t say a word.”

“Good,” Renly sighed. He heaved a sigh of relief, and laid back against the furs again, the soft fine hairs tickling his cheek. If he closed his eyes even, he could imagine that it was Loras’ curls brushing his skin. It was a comforting thought; Loras usually sat with him when he’d drunk too much, and it seemed odd to him that he wasn’t here now.

Alyn’s voice broke him from his thoughts. “Do you miss Ser Loras, my lord,” he asked quietly, “when he’s not here, I mean?”

Renly opened his eyes. “Yes,” he said, “Of course I do.” It only vaguely occurred to him that the admission was one that might have left his mouth slightly less easily had he been sober, and yet he pushed that thought aside. “But what about you Alyn?” he asked. “Any bonny young lady you’re sad to leave behind in the capital?”

“No,” Alyn laughed. “Unfortunately not.”

Renly sat up rather unsteadily, crossing his legs. He could see Alyn now despite the very dim light and he grinned at him. “What about ones that catch your eye then?”

“Well then a few,” Alyn smiled. “Ser Andrew’s sister came to court a few weeks ago, and she was rather lovely, and I’ve never spoken a word to her but that Sansa Stark is beautiful.”

“Mmm,” Renly agreed, trying to picture the eldest Stark girl and her auburn locks. “Too good for the crown prince perhaps. We’ll probably see her a few years down the line with a few more bruises than even Cersei had yesterday.”

Alyn said nothing to that. In all fairness, he couldn’t say anything to that. Where Renly could dare to say such things about the crown prince, Alyn was not fortunate enough to be brother to the king, and was a lowly squire at that. Loras might have dared even as an eleven-year-old, Renly thought, but Alyn was not him; he knew his boundaries.

“Well what about ones you could actually wed?” Renly yawned, stretching his legs out a little and wondering if he should have changed into his night clothes or something.

“None that I’ve met,” Alyn told him.

That, Renly thought, simply couldn’t do. “Well I shall have to find you one,” he laughed. “A female cousin or something.”

“You don’t have any female cousins,” Alyn pointed out.

“That’s true,” Renly mused, only now seeing the gaping hole in his plan. He contemplated the potential remedy for that, and grinned when he found the answer. “Loras has a lot of cousins,” he announced triumphantly. “Too many to count. I’m sure you could have one of them.”

Alyn chuckled quietly. “What would Ser Loras say, my lord, if he knew you were doling out his cousins as brides?”

Renly smiled. “He’d probably hit me,” he laughed. “And tell me to keep my nose out of it. But he’d come round. I can always bring him around.”

“I bet you can,” Alyn mumbled.

Renly felt a flush rise to his already warm cheeks. “Anyway,” he grinned, doing his best to take his foot out of his mouth. “Loras’ cousins. I was plotting to find you one, a sweet little lady wife who’ll make current buns in the shape of turtles.”

Alyn snorted at that, obviously not taken by Renly’s suggestion. “Ladies hardly belong in the kitchen,” he protested, and then, “and turtle shaped current buns? Really, my lord?”

“Well why not?” Renly asked him, smile widening as he tried not to yawn again. “The cooks used to make stag shaped biscuits for me when I was a boy.” He sighed, reminiscing. “They didn’t look much like stags really, more like biscuity blobs with antlers. But I liked them all the same.” He closed his eyes. “Should have been a Tully,” he mused, “I bet even I could make a biscuit in the shape of a fish.”

Alyn was apparently amused by that and he laughed. “Better be glad that you weren’t a Greyjoy then. Kraken’s aren’t the most distinctive of creatures.”

“One of the many reasons I’m glad I’m not a Greyjoy,” Renly conceded. “And promise me, Alyn, promise me you’ll never marry a Greyjoy? I could not bear to see a cousin of mine with a salt wife.”

“I thought I was marrying one of Ser Loras’ cousins?” Alyn jested.

“Ah yes,” Renly laughed. “You were.”

“Well what do these cousins look like, my lord?” Alyn prompted.

“Oh they’re all same,” Renly groaned. “All bouncy curls and so tiny that they’d barely reach your waist. You’ll probably wed one and end up taking her sister to bed by accident.” He grinned. “And none of them have a temperament like Loras’, I promise you that. They’re all sweet docile little things, who sew and do their grandmother’s bidding.”

Alyn nodded along. “Do any of them look like Lady Margaery?”

Renly smiled, not surprised by the question. “Ah,” he said, “The fabled Lady Margaery. Well there’s none I don’t think that are quite as beautiful as her, but many of the ones I’ve seen have a likeness.”

“That sounds nice.”

“Well when we’re next in Highgarden I shall task Loras with introducing you to some of them,” Renly chuckled. Stretching, he lay back down, fumbling around for a pillow to lay his head on.

“Yes, my lord,” Alyn laughed wearily. “Now really, you should sleep.”

Renly had to agree with that, and yawning, he closed his eyes.


	124. Chapter 124

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that my chapters have been a little shorter recently. At the moment it's just working out better to try and post short chapters more regularly.

As soon as he’d mounted the next day, Renly sorely regretted drinking the night before. His head ached and he had the dull urge to vomit every time his mare shifted beneath him, his stomach turning small somersaults with every step. Unlike Robert apparently, who had risen with just as much eagerness to hunt as he’d set off from King's Landing with, Renly wasn’t capable of getting into his cups and still being able to function properly the morning after. If it had been up to him, he'd have stayed in his pavilion and let Robert go on without him. 

His men seemed to feel much the same, Renly was slightly pleased to see though as they set off. Ser Gladden was almost asleep in the saddle, his head lolling against his chest; Ser Andrew had had to dismount twice to retch into the bushes before they’d even made it out of the clearing they’d camped in, and Ser Guyard was almost as green as his cloak. They, too, were apparently suffering the ill effects of the night before. 

There was less laughter and song as they rode today, and Renly was a little glad for it. Instead he followed Ser Gladden’s lead and almost dozed in the saddle, trusting his mare to follow the tail of the horse in front. Loras, he knew, would have scolded him for it and insisted that a rider always had to be alert, for a horse was only as sensible as the man on it. Renly reckoned he’d have ignored him even if he had been there though, for unlike Loras, he didn’t often ride horses that had a tendency to bolt. He preferred what Loras called 'easy' horses, ones with fine breeding and lineage, but which were also rather pleasurable to ride. 

It was almost midday by the time that Renly started feeling a little better, and he’d just raised his head to call for Alyn to bring him a skin of water when a colossal roar from up front made him want to vomit again. In fact, he almost did, and fighting the urge to retch, he turned to Alyn who was still loyally at his side. 

“What on earth is going on?” he muttered. "I was trying to sleep."

“It’s the hart,” Alyn whispered from alongside him. He didn't scold Renly for his bizarre attempt at rest while on horseback. 

Renly glanced around. “Well where is it?” he asked. “Are we not going to give chase?”

Alyn pointed and Renly tried to follow his finger with his gaze, turning his mare about so that he could peer though the gap between the Hound and Barristan Selmy. He winced when he finally saw what Alyn was gesturing at. The hart- or what was left of it more aptly- lay at the foot of a great oak tree, the bones picked almost clean with only a few tattered pieces of bloodied skin and white fur clinging to them. The antlers were still intact though, and judging from their size, it had truly been a magnificent beast, one that would have been fit even for Robert’s table.

It was only then that Renly dared look around for Robert. He was unsurprised to see that he looked furious, as if it were his son whose skeleton wolves had picked clean and not merely a particularly majestic beast that he’d been planning on sticking his spear into. His face was red with fury, a bulging vein threatening to burst out of his forehead, and even as Renly watched, he dismounted from his stallion with a mighty thud, storming over to the pile of bones. For a long while he just stared down at them, face like thunder, but then he lashed out with a heavily booted foot, and Renly winced as the backbone of the animal snapped.

Nobody said a word as he then turned and disappeared into the forest, black and gold cloak streaming behind him. Only Barristan Selmy even moved, and Renly had to admire his bravery as he followed his furious king into the trees. Several nervous blond squires then chased after them, clutching their flagons of wine as if they were sure their king would want them. They were certainly right, Renly imagined. There were only two things that Robert wanted when he was angry, and they were drink and whores.

“How long do you think he’ll be gone, my lord?” Alyn whispered beside Renly.

Renly shrugged. “In the mood he’s in now? Hopefully forever.” 

Alyn didn’t dare laugh, but Renly saw him smile out of the corner of his eye.

With Robert gone, nobody else seemed to know what to do, and Renly sighed as chaos quickly descended over the group. Prince Joffrey was insisting that he and the huntsman lead the party on in search of new quarry, but quickly found that the remaining White Cloaks objected, albeit very respectfully, to leaving without the king; others meanwhile suggested heading after Robert to join him, whilst some seemed to think that returning to King's Landing was the best course of action now that the hart was dead.

Renly for his part let them argue, sitting quietly on his mare whilst the debate got more and more heated, until Joffrey was all but screaming at the Kingsguard whose duty it was to guard him. Renly just ignored him as best he could, which was a difficult feat indeed, considering the volume at which Joffrey was speaking. 

He must have dozed in the end though, for Renly found himself startling awake what seemed like moments later, Alyn shaking him violently. Yawning, he rubbed his eyes, pleased to see that somebody had evidently made Joffrey shut up.

"I think the king's back," Alyn told him, and indeed, Renly could hear a rustling noise coming from within the trees. 

He’d been expecting to see Robert appear before them and yet Renly had to do a double take when no less than fifteen mounted knights rode into the clearing. At the head of the procession rode Robar Royce, clad not in his the ancient armour of his house, but in simpler mail. Strangely, it was Robert’s banner that he bore and not his own, the black and gold banner fluttering behind him in the breeze. 

Lord Royce, Ser Robar’s father, was already in the hunting party, and Renly watched as he rode out to greet his son. Even he, however, did not seem to know the reason behind his son’s sudden appearance, and he frowned as his son approached.

Ser Robar bowed quickly to his father before turning to speak. “I bring a message for the king,” he announced, looking about rather expectantly as if Robert might be hiding somewhere. “From the Lord Hand.”

That was odd tidings indeed, Renly thought. It was very peculiar that anything was so pressing that Robert needed to be brought news of it right away. He was just about to inform Ser Robar that Robert had taken a brief stroll into the forest when somebody else did it for him. 

“My father’s not here,” came a sneering voice from the head of the column, “So it is to me you shall speak. And you shall dismount before me.” Emerging from within the party, Joffrey sat tall on his horse, sword in hand as if it were a traitor before him and not the son of a well respected lord. 

Renly raised an eyebrow, not liking his tone nor his words. “With all due respect, your grace," he said as evenly as his voice would allow, "you’re not king yet, and nor do you sit on your father’s council.”

Joffrey’s face grew livid at that, his mouth contorting as if he’d have liked to spit in Renly’s face. Quite possibly he did want to do that, Renly thought, and yet even so, he ignored him staunchly, riding up to Ser Robar himself.

“As Prince Joffrey has well said, my brother’s currently absent, Ser. Perhaps you might like to wait?” As the only man present who _did_ sit on Robert's council, he would have liked to suggest that Robar give him the message, and yet having denied Joffrey, he didn't dare.

Ser Robar nodded at his words, and though nobody had suggested it, Ser Arys Oakheart handed the reins of Robert’s stallion to his squire and set off in the direction Robert had disappeared in, evidently intending to bring him back.

Surprisingly, it didn’t take him long, and when Robert did appear amongst the trees, flanked by both Barristan Selmy and Arys Oakheart, he seemed to have gained a little of his composure. He'd evidently drunk rather heavily though, for his beard was stained a deep red.

“Ser Robar,” he grunted, shoving a foot clumsily in the stirrup and mounting his stallion. “Why has Ned sent you? Come, say your say. I'm hunting today, not sat on that damned chair.”

“The Hand of the King has sent me to inform his grace of attacks that have been made on several villages in the Riverlands, your grace.” Oddly, he shot a rather apprehensive glance at the Hound before he continued. "They are believed to have been led by Ser Gregor Clegane.”

Robert made a rather rough sound in the back of his throat. “And why would the Mountain be raiding villages?” he demanded. His words were slightly slurred, confirming Renly's suspicions that he'd done nothing but drink whilst he’d been away.

Because Lady Catelyn has seized Tywin Lannister’s imp, Renly thought privately to himself, for he thought it obvious, but Robar Royce merely bowed his head at Robert’s question.

“I cannot answer, your grace. I can only tell you what I have been told. The brigands rode under the cover of darkness, under no banner, but the villagers and knights who gave testimony told of the man’s sheer size. They swore on the gods that it was Ser Gregor."

Robert’s eyes narrowed. “And how has Lord Stark acted in my stead?” 

“He has sent a party of men to bring Ser Gregor to justice, your grace.”

Robert said nothing. Whether he approved of the action that Ned Stark had taken was not clear, but Renly knew that Robert would not undermine his Hand even if didn’t. Personally though, Renly thought it a strange course of action to have taken. Whilst he believed that it probably _was_ Gregor Clegane who had led the raids, probably even on Lord Tywin's bequest, there seemed to be little definitive proof seeing as neither his face nor his banner had been seen. Having already angered the lion once in the past fortnight, Renly thought Ned Stark rather silly to evidently be so eager to do it again. 

“Very well,” Robert grunted though, “Who has he sent?”

Renly felt himself stiffen in his saddle at that question. He hadn’t given any thought to who Lord Stark might or might not have sent, and yet now that Robert spoke of it, it occurred to him rather instantly quite who was exactly the sort of man who might have volunteered for it. Loras was eager to prove himself, thirsty for glory, and he held the most terrible grudge against Gregor Clegane. The Mountain had made an attack on his life, but more pertinently, he had embarrassed Loras, and that was something that Renly knew Loras would never forgive.

“Lord Beric Dondarrion was sent, your grace,” Robar said loudly though, and Renly felt himself relax. As skilled as he knew Loras was, he didn’t like the sound of him riding out to fight the Mountain. Loras, he knew, despite all his bravado, had never even killed a man before, and Renly didn’t really want his first to be one of Tywin Lannister’s bannermen.

Robert had merely sat sullenly in his saddle throughout Ser Robar's tidings, and now that there was apparently nothing more to say, he turned to the huntsmen. “You promised me a white hart. Find me something else to hunt.”

“But your grace,” Ser Barristan Selmy said quietly. “Shouldn’t we perhaps return to-“

“I came here to bloody hunt, and I’m not leaving without doing so.” He turned back to the huntsmen. “Now tell me. What else has been sighted.”

The huntsmen looked terrified, and he shifted uncomfortably under the king's gaze. Renly felt rather sorry for him. He supposed it wasn't easy finding game that was magnificent enough for the king to hunt. 

"Well?" Robert demanded.

"There are many other deer in the forest," he said hurriedly, "we might pick up a trail."

Robert, however, turned his nose up. "Find me something decent to hunt," he roared, his face contorting. "I'm a king, not a peasant."

The huntsman took a deep breath. "There have been no confirmed sightings your grace, but many of the smallfolk talk of a monstrous boar, deep in the forest. Perh-“

“A boar eh?” Robert’s good cheer was suddenly back and he clapped the huntsman on the shoulder. “Well we’ll go after it. Let's hope that it's as big as they say. Been a while since I took a boar down.”

Renly sighed. “Robert,” he murmured, taking his mare close so that nobody else might hear. “I think Ser Barristan might have been wise to suggest that we return to the capital.”

“Shut your mouth, Renly,” Robert spat. “Now everyone who wants to go back to the keep be off with you. It'll be good riddance.”

Renly was tempted to argue again, but he shut his mouth as he was bid. There was no point, he knew, even bothering to fight against Robert's stubbornness.

 

* * *

 

 

In the end, only half of the hunting party continued on, and whilst Renly sorely wished that he were part of the half that had gone back, he found himself still riding behind Robert. As his brother apparently, or so Robert had insisted, his place was by his side. This of course was news to Renly, for he reckoned that he'd gone many years at times without even _seeing_ Robert, let alone being at his side. 

Now that there was less company to keep him entertained, Robert seemed to have returned to his usual method of amusement. He drank more than Renly would have thought possible, a wine skin almost constantly at his lips except for those occasions where he was shouting to his squire for more. Often, he’d have to dismount to piss, and too drunk to stumble off further into the trees like most men would, he’d just roar with laughter as he pissed against the nearest tree.

“The king is rather, um, well endowed,” Alyn commented after Robert had once more relieved himself before them.

Renly grinned. “It runs in the family,” he said, much to the amusement of all his men.

Alyn made a face. “It really does,” he said, “I’ve seen him dress.”

His men laughed at that, and Ser Guyard muttered something that Renly thought sounded a little like “Poor Tyrell” and which he staunchly ignored. He’d have quite liked to inform Ser Guyard that 'Tyrell' as they always insisted on calling him, was actually rather fond of his larger size. It didn’t hurt him, at least not often anyway.

Robert had got back on his horse now, aided by his several squires who had got nothing more than a foul-mouthed tirade for their efforts, and he called for Renly.

“Renly,” he slurred, “You ever fucked a Riverlands girl? You know, a girl from round ‘ere?”

Renly frowned, wondering where that had come from, for they weren’t particularly anywhere near the Riverlands. They were still firmly in the Crownlands and still many leagues from the border it shared with the Riverlands. He didn’t dare correct him though, for Robert was so drunk that he could quite have easily believed them in Essos, Renly reckoned.

“Once, I think,” Renly said, just to keep him happy.

“ _You think?_ ” Robert slurred, swaying a little atop his mount. “I think you’d remember. Back in our day, you weren’t a real man until you’d fucked one girl from each of the seven kingdoms and the Riverlands. We used to call it making the eight.”

“Mmm,” Renly agreed, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He winced as he imagined Robert sweating above a poor maid, his rolls of fat suffocating her. “Those must have been some lucky girls.”

Robert didn’t appear to notice his tone. “You ever make the eight, Barristan?” he asked instead.

If Ser Barristan found the question odd, he didn’t let it show on his face. “I don’t believe so, your grace,” he said, taking it in his stride.

Renly, on the other hand, couldn’t help but snort with laughter. Never had there been a more amusing notion than Ser Barristan Selmy making what Robert called ‘the eight’. For one, he was bound to celibacy, and two, he was probably the most dutiful man in Westeros and as such was no more likely to bed a girl without wedding her as he was to stab Robert in the back.

Robert just nodded heartily though. “Those were the days,” he murmured to himself.

Renly offered no reply to that, and he merely drew back to be amongst his men once more, smiling when Ser Guyard gave him a rather sympathetic look.

“So,” he laughed, wishing he was back in the capital with Loras rather than listening to the drunken ramblings of his brother. “Have you made the eight, Guyard?”

Ser Guyard snorted. “I don’t think so, my lord. Perhaps almost, but I’ve a little way to go.” He sat up proudly on his horse as if daring any of the other men to do better.

Renly didn’t challenge it. He didn’t think his grand total of one out of eight was particularly worth voicing. He did wonder though if his men would be surprised or not, if they expected that he took other men to bed aside from Loras. He supposed that they probably did; after all, it was rare that even married lords only had one bed partner.

“Well which kingdoms are you lacking?” Ser Andrew chipped in when nobody else did.

Ser Guyard grinned, puffing out his chest. “Just the North and the Eyrie. Dorne was done in Dorne, the Stormlands are obvious, and-“

“And the rest of them were whores?” Ser Andrew supplied helpfully.

Renly grinned whilst Ser Guyard became a little flustered. He didn’t deny it though, and so Renly reckoned Ser Andrew’s words had hit their mark.

He was about to say so, when there was a cry from up ahead. Twisting in his saddle to get a better view, Renly saw that it was the huntsman who had yelled. Finally, it seemed, they had picked up this boar’s trail. 


	125. Chapter 125

It wasn’t until the next morning that the trail found by the huntsman came to any conclusion. A murmur ran suddenly through the hunting party as their quarry was sighted, and even Ser Guyard stopped mid-song, the words only half-formed in his mouth. 

They’d entered into a clearing and the boar that they'd been tracking was drinking at a stream, apparently unperturbed by the horses. Less majestic than a stag, it was a magnificent animal all the same, Renly saw. Standing at almost four feet high at the shoulder, its tusks were as long as a boy’s arm and just as thick, before tapering to sword-sharp points. Whilst not the white hart that Robert had been promised, Renly imagined that it would do just fine. It was a beast fit to grace even Robert's table.

Robert apparently agreed, for with a bellow, he gave chase. Like any animal with instinct, the boar fled, dashing through the undergrowth. Its flight only spurred Robert on, and with a quick jab at his stallion's flanks with his boot, Robert was going faster, faster and faster until the only thing that Renly could hear was the pounding of their horses' hooves in his ears. Leaning forward, Renly urged his mare on, determined to match Robert's pace. It was this part of the hunt that he actually enjoyed: the exhilarating chase, the feel of the wind in his hair as they pursued their quarry. It almost made riding behind Robert for several days worthwhile, Renly reckoned. 

At Robert’s slurred command, the party split, half of the company that still remained veering to one side to try and prevent the boar’s escape. The huntsman had released the dogs now, and Renly winced as several almost got trampled under the horses’ feet in their haste to begin the chase. Their task was to cut the boar off, to keep it at bay. 

They'd been trained well, and with much growling and yapping, they had the boar soon cornered. Realising that it was now trapped, the boar was squealing and had turned about. It found its path blocked, however, by yet more dogs, and its attempt at flight over, it pawed at the ground, aggression in every movement. Snapping and biting, the dogs were clambering over themselves to tear at it, trying to drag it to the ground with little success. 

It was then that the huntsman called the dogs off, and they retreated a little, merely snapping at the boar each time it came close. Renly watched it warily. He’d never taken a boar himself, and he didn’t think he particularly wanted to try. Boars had a notoriously thick hide, and were slow to die. They were often known to wound a hunter even after being mortally wounded themselves.

Robert, however, seemed unperturbed. He was already trying to stumble from his horse, and he took another large swig of wine when he failed. A second attempt enabled him to get his leg over, but his leather-booted foot caught in the stirrup and he almost tripped.

Renly turned upon the Lannister boy attending him. “Pour the wine away,” he snapped. “The king has drunk enough.”

Robert raised a fist, and for a brief moment Renly thought him about to cuff him across the face. He then lowered it unsteadily. “The King will drink what he wants,” he spat. He grabbed the wineskin from the rather startled boy and drank deeply. His beard was stained red now and it dripped a scarlet line down his doublet.

Renly nodded uncertainly. He was about to protest again when a high pitched yelping made him glance up. He winced as he saw the boar tossing one of the hounds aside, blood dripping from the wounded dog’s shoulder and the boar's tusks. 

As the dog limped to its feet, howling, Ser Arys rode forth, a crossbow in his hands. He caught Renly’s eye.

“Your grace, Renly cautioned, wondering if Robert might actually hit him this time for the impudence. “Perhaps you might bring it down with the crossbow. It might be more, um, _sensible_."

“Shut your bloody mouth, Renly, or it’ll be you I bring down with the crossbow.” He took another swig of wine.

“As you say,” Renly sighed. He wasn’t surprised. It was tradition that a boar was brought down by a single spear, or a dagger even. There was no honour in wielding a bow. Killing a boar with spear or sword showed strength and prowess; a bow was akin to cowardice. Robert was a bold man by nature, and he was made even bolder by the wine.

The boar was pawing at the ground again now and it was all that the dogs could do to keep it at bay. Every now and again, they would clash, the dogs tearing at the boar’s thick hide with their teeth to keep it back.

Robert had his spear in hand now, a finely crafted wooden weapon with a steel tip, but he could barely stand up straight to wield it. His steps were clumsy, clouded with wine, and Renly dismounted wearily to stand beside him, Barristan Selmy already a step ahead of him.

“Your grace,” Ser Barristan said loudly, “Perhaps if you and Lord Renly take it from the front, and Ser Arys and I take it from the rear?”

Robert’s face twisted. “I came here to hunt, not to play ring a ring a roses. Now step aside.” He tightened his grip on his spear and strode forward, cursing under his breath as he kicked one of the dogs aside to get through.

Renly put a hand on his shoulder and tried to restrain him. “Your grace,” he protested again. 

Robert turned, furious. “I told you to step aside.”

Duly, Renly and Barristan stepped aside, and with a loud whistle, the huntsman called the dogs off once more.

Renly watched with baited breath as Robert stumbled ahead. He’d seen his brother take a boar before; he’d seen his brother take a boar dozens of times even, single-handedly with a quick spear through the eye or through the heart. Some of his earliest memories consisted of Robert bringing some down some large animal or another, whilst he had watched from the back of the hunting party atop his pony, safely guarded by one of the Kingsuard. 

In those days, Renly had watched in awe. Now he watched with a little trepidation. Robert had once been strong; a brave warrior with his war hammer at his side. Now he was a drunken king, brandishing a spear as he fought to keep his balance.

That drunken king had reached the boar now, and arm outstretched, he lunged at it. His aim couldn't have been poorer and the spear merely glanced off the boar’s flank and left nothing but a thin trail of blood.

" _Robert_ ," Renly protested, at the same time as Ser Barristan. "Perhaps the crossbow."

"Shut your bloody mouth and stay back."

Renly shut his mouth and gulped as Robert thrust again, the boar’s squealing loud in his ears. This time the spear caught the boar squarely in the shoulder, tearing flesh from bone. Blood spurted from the wound, and Robert was just drawing back for a third pass when the boar charged.

As if by instinct, Renly shut his eyes. But he heard the sharp intake of breath from those around him; he heard Robert’s roar of fury,. It echoed in his ears, loudly, painfully, drowning out every other sound except the beating of Renly’s own heart. 

Somehow, Renly was sure that when he prised his eyes open, he’d be a child again, sat upon his white pony and stunned by his oldest brother’s prowess. In his head, Robert would be being patted on the back by all his companions and the boar would lying dead at his feet.

His breath catching in his throat, he opened his eyes. For a moment, he was fooled. The boar _was_ lying dead at Robert’s feat as he’d expected it to be, the spear through its eye.

For a good few moments, Renly stared at the dead beast in awe, stared at his eldest brother in awe, but then Robert was dropping to his knees, a low groan escaping his lips. “Damn animal,” he mumbled.

Renly watched as he fell, unable to tear his eyes away. Barristan Selmy was already at Robert’s side and Renly tried to move his feet to join him. His legs felt like lead though, and as if vines had sprung up out of the ground, he found that his feet were rooted to the spot.

Barristan Selmy had rolled Robert over now, and slowly, Renly felt a chill come over him as the extent of the wound was revealed to him. He knew that it was Robert he was seeing in front of him, but he barely recognised him. It could have somebody else’s brother whose insides were spilling out across the grass, anybody else’s brother even. It was as if he were looking at Robert through a heavy fog, a sudden mist that had clouded his eyes. Indeed, Robert's face was starting to blur, his features sliding into one another strangely as Renly's head started to swim. Only the wound remained vivid, and Renly stared at it, transfixed. The boar had ripped Robert wide open and half his entrails were exposed, red and shiny against the white of Ser Barristan's cloak.

Blinking, Renly gulped. He felt suddenly unsteady, and his legs giving out from underneath him, he fell to his knees towards Robert. The grass was cold beneath him, the morning dew seeping through the fabric of his breeches. Dazed, he looked back at the king and wondered if he was dreaming.

When he didn’t wake up and Robert was still lying fallen on the ground, Renly shifted closer. Strangely, he felt an odd sense of calm descend over him.

“It’s going to be all right,” he told Robert firmly, his voice sounding dead to his ears as he clutched the bloodied pieces of Robert’s doublet and stretched them back across his chest to cover the wound. “We’re going to get you back. Pycelle’s going to help you.”

Robert just grunted, grimacing a blood-stained grin. His eyes went to the boar that lay next to him. “Just bring the bastard back, Renly,” he muttered, spitting out a mouthful of blood that spattered across Renly’s hunting greens. “I want it roasted and crisp.”

Renly nodded, his head feeling oddly separate from his neck. He barely noticed as a litter was fashioned out of felled trees and canvas. He barely even noticed when Robert was rolled onto it by the Kingsguard, roaring in pain. He just knelt in the blood-stained grass, staring down at his hands. They were red, dripping with scarlet, as if one of Cersei’s banners had turned to liquid in his hands.

 

* * *

 

 

The canvas of Robert’s litter was dripping blood within an hour, rivulets of red running down the poles and down the arms of the men who carried him.

Renly followed close behind. The smell was rank, blood and bile. It filled Renly's nose and made him want to vomit, or flee from it, or perhaps both even, and every time that the trees seemed to begin to thin, Renly hoped to all the seven gods and more that the city would come into view, if only so that he could smell the stink of the Blackwater instead of the blood. The going, however, was painfully slow, the poles hard on the men’s shoulders and very unstable. Robert groaned with every jolt and bump, and his squires would rush forward with more wine. Whether it dulled the pain or not, Renly had no idea.

They rested only on the second day, and only because the canvas of Robert’s litter had begun to tear and needed to be replaced.

The camp was silent as they rested, even Robert having fallen into a stupor, and Renly couldn’t bear it. His men had followed behind him dutifully as usual and yet for the first time in Renly’s living memory, none of them had even uttered a word to him. They’d followed him silently, their heads bowed.

It was a sign of respect, Renly knew, and yet it was driving him mad. Unable to bear it any longer, he wandered off into the trees.

It was just as silent in the forest, and yet it was a different type of silence, Renly found. Trees were supposed to be silent; they stood for centuries without uttering a word. Men on the other hand were supposed to talk; they were supposed to laugh and sing and joke.  

He stopped when he was a fair distance from the camp, and sighing, he sank to the ground to lean against the trunk of a large oak tree. It reminded him of the one which stood in the clearing back at Storm’s End that he was so fond of, and that pleased him somehow. Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply, relishing the smell of damp grass that filled his senses. He didn’t think he could bear the smell of rotting flesh for a moment longer.

He didn't know how long he sat there, or how long it was before he found himself distantly aware of the sound of footsteps. When he glanced up too, he barely even recognised Alyn’s face above him. 

“We’re about to leave, my lord,” Alyn told him softly.

“Right,” Renly sighed. He closed his eyes again and leant back more heavily against the tree, the trunk comfortingly stable behind him. He wondered vaguely if he ought to be bothered by the fact that his squire had found him sat on the ground amongst the wet leaves.

“You need to come back with me,” Alyn pressed. Bending, he grasped Renly’s elbow and pulled him to his feet.

“Of course I do,” Renly agreed. He fell into stride beside Alyn. The uncomfortable silence was back and Renly felt a little like he was drowning in it. It was strangling him, smothering him as the smell of Robert's wound began to overpower him once more. 

He turned to Alyn sharply. “Talk won’t you,” he snapped. “I didn’t take you on to be a silent squire.”

Alyn nodded hurriedly, mumbled a few incoherent words, and then promptly fell back into silence.

“Well?” Renly demanded a little desperately. "Just say something won't you. _Anything_ , Alyn."

Alyn floundered. “Is, um, is the king going to die, my lord?” he asked quietly.

Renly paused, looking down at his hands as they walked. Robert’s blood had dried now, and it was cracked, brownish red across his palms. Strangely, he hadn’t really thought about the prospect of Robert dying. 

“Yes,” he sighed. Oddly, he felt nothing as the tiny word escaped his lips, only the sun on his face and the breeze at his hair.


	126. Chapter 126

It was late on the second day by the time that they reached the Red Keep. The stars were high in the sky, the moon aglow, and yet they seemed to bring no light, Renly found. The darkness was suffocating, pressing down on Renly’s shoulders as they rode into the courtyard.

He was weary, beyond weary, and Renly could barely stay awake during the long walk to Robert’s chambers. It had been two days since he’d slept, two days since he’d properly rested, and Renly was almost envious when Robert was lain across the bed, a blanket covering him so that he would not have to look at his own wound.

Renly took a chair by the bed as the servants worked, hurrying back and forth as if there were masters with whips behind them. Indeed, fires were soon blazing in the twin hearths at either end of the bedchamber. They filled the room with a sullen red glare, and even when Renly shut his eyes, the fires seemed to burn beneath his eyelids, sinister and ominous. It unnerved him, and yet the stifling heat was worse still. The shutters had been bolted shut, and with the fires roaring in both hearths, the very air seemed heavy to the touch.

It was unbearable, sweat soon dripping down the back of Renly's neck, and it only got worse as the putrid smell from Robert’s festering wound filled the air. Even the wine that was boiling in the hearths in preparation for Pycelle’s arrival failed to mask the stink.

Renly wanted to run from the room, to escape the suffocating heat and to drink in the fresh clean air that lay beyond the oak doors of Robert’s chambers. He settled for rising and going to stand in front of the shuttered windows, fighting the urge to throw them open as he watched his brother’s chest rise and fall beneath the blanket that covered him.

It was a miracle that he still clung to life, and Renly shuddered as he watched, unable to tear his eyes away. His brother was fading before his very eyes, and yet he could do nothing except stand by helplessly. Wiping his sweating brow on his sleeve, he wondered if this was how Robert and Stannis had felt as they’d watched the sea claim the Windproud, unable to look away but unable to do a damn thing either. He wondered vaguely whether they’d wept, or whether they’d felt strangely empty too.

He was still stood watching when Robert stirred, coughing loudly.

Renly hurried to his bedside. “Don’t worry, Robert,” he told him, more firmly than he felt, “Ser Barristan has sent for Pycelle. Lord Stark and Cersei too.”

Robert grunted; the thought of his wife perhaps did little for him. “Come here, Renly,” he murmured thickly, his voice slow and lethargic.

Renly gulped. “I am here.” Hesitantly, he sat down on the side of the bed, the smell making him feel queasy. “What is it, brother?”

“Don’t let ‘em lay me to rest in this gods-be-damned city,” he mumbled, bringing a hand feebly up to scratch his beard.

“Storm’s End?” Renly murmured.

“Storm’s End,” Robert agreed hoarsely. “It’s where I belong. Home. Where I should’ve stayed.” He groaned loudly, a trickle of blood escaping his lips. “Have my hammer taken too. I’ll be needing it. For Rhaegar… in the afterlife…”

Renly nodded. “I’ll do my best, Robert.”

“Aye,” Robert agreed. “You do your best.” Weakly, he patted Renly on the shoulder, leaving a smear of fresh blood across his doublet. “Should’ve spent more time with you when you were a boy,” he mumbled. “Our mother would’ve been ashamed. Me, you and Stannis... some brothers eh?”

Renly said nothing. He didn’t know what to say to that. He remembered well being a boy and longing for Robert to come home. But it had been years since he’d felt the desire for either of his brother’s affections. For lack of any other idea, he placed his hand on Robert’s arm. It felt strange there; very rarely did he and Robert share anything more than a rough clap on the shoulder.

“What’s done is done,” he said gently, “There’s no point in regretting. You’ve lived life to the full. Made the most of your time."

“Aye,” Robert breathed. He gave a sudden guffaw of laugh and spat out a mouthful of blood onto the bedclothes. “I’ve had my amusement. More than Stannis will be able to say on his deathbed.”

“Mmm,” Renly hummed, raising a very small smile that hurt his mouth. “Stannis,” he murmured, “may very well live to the grand old age of one hundred, but he’ll be able to count his fond memories on one hand.”

Robert gave him a smile that was half a grimace, his teeth stained red with blood. He opened his mouth to speak again but Renly tightened his hand on his arm.

“Hush, Robert,” he said quietly, “Save your strength.”

“Aye,” he croaked. “Will need it if Cersei’s come to say her last goodbyes.”

He’d perhaps sensed that she was close, for it was only a few moments later that the doors creaked open and the Royal Steward announced the queen’s arrival.

She was followed into the room by Pycelle, the old man shuffling in behind her, his face grave. Both had evidently been roused from bed. Cersei’s hair was tousled, the strands tangled about her face, whilst Pycelle’s very wrinkles seemed to have wrinkles of their own, the folds of his skin sagging.

Cersei perched on the edge of the bed next to Renly, and Renly quickly withdrew, returning to his spot by the window and pacing anxiously. A sour woman though she was, she was Robert’s wife and it would be expected of him to leave her to her grieving, false as it certainly was. Indeed, she spoke softly to Robert, leaning in close, her words barely a murmur above the crackle of the fire. Whether it was false sentiments she was whispering in his ear or threats, Renly didn’t know. He found he didn’t particularly care. Neither would hurt or harm Robert now. 

Instead, he watched through clouded eyes as Pycelle worked, soaking bandages in the wine that the servants had boiled for him. There was something strangely soothing about his work, Renly found; it was somehow reassuring in how methodical it was, in how he’d take first one strip of linen and then the next, stacking them all in a neat pile as he went. It was world's away from the chaos of the past few days. 

Renly had to grimace though when Pycelle eventually took the boiling wine off the hearth and made his way to the bedside. Looking away, Renly watched Robert’s face instead. It had been years perhaps since Renly had admired his brother, but he had to admire him now. The gash was first treated with boiling wine before it was stitched together as well as Pycelle could manage. A lesser man might have screamed, Renly thought, but Robert bore the pain with no more than a few grunts, pushing Pycelle’s offer of milk of the poppy aside and telling Cersei to quiet when she offered a few feigned words of comfort.

Renly only looked at the wound itself when Pycelle had finished and his stomach turned as he knew it might. The stitches were grotesque, stretching across putrid rotting flesh as if someone had taken a needle and thread to a corpse. It made him want to retch and he was glad when the wine-soaked bandages were applied and the blanket put back over him, for they at least disguised a little of the foul smell.

Gulping, he returned to pacing by the shuttered window, feeling the sweat pool at the base of his throat and soak into his clothes.

He didn’t know how long he walked like that, but he was still putting one foot blankly in front of the other when the royal steward opened the door, letting a fleeting draft in.

"Lord Eddard Stark, the Hand of the King," he announced.

"Bring him here," Robert called gruffly. 

The Lord Hand appeared in the doorway a few feet away from where Renly was standing, flanked by two of his grey-cloaked guards. He too had evidently been roused from bed, and he moved slowly across the room, his face ashen as he approached the bed where Robert lay. 

"Ned," Robert whispered when he saw him, his voice thick with emotion that certainly hadn’t been there for either Renly or his wife. "Come . . . closer."

Stark’s men accompanied him to the bed, and Renly watched as the Hand steadied himself with a palm on the bedpost, just a little way from where Cersei still sat on the edge of the bed. His face paled at the sight before him.

"What . . . ?" he began, the words appearing to stick in his throat.

"A boar,” Renly told him wearily.

"A devil," Robert croaked in a voice like gravel. "My own fault. Too much wine, damn me to hell. Missed my thrust."

The Hand of the King turned sharply at that, his eyes falling on Renly. "And where were the rest of you?" he demanded. "Where was Ser Barristan and the Kingsguard?"

It was a clear accusation and one that Renly didn’t care for. He felt his mouth twitch. "My brother commanded us to stand aside and let him take the boar alone,” he said. 

Whether the explanation satisfied the Hand, Renly didn’t know, but all the same, Lord Stark turned back to Robert and lifted the blanket.

The wine-soaked bandages were already black with blood and the smell off the wound was as hideous as Renly recalled it being. What little colour had been in Stark’s cheeks fled.

"Stinks," Robert said. "The stink of death, don't think I can't smell it. Bastard did me good, eh? But I . . . I paid him back in kind, Ned." Robert gave him a blood-stained grimace. "Drove a spear right through his eye. Ask them if I didn't. Ask them."

"Truly," Renly murmured, thinking of the dead creature that had lain at Robert's feet. "We brought the carcass back with us, at my brother's command."

"For the feast," Robert whispered. "Now leave us. The lot of you. I need to speak with Ned."

Renly nodded. He craved the fresh air, an escape from the room which smelt and tasted like death. Cersei, however, seemed reluctant.

"Robert, my sweet lord… " she began.

"I said leave," Robert insisted with a hint of his old fierceness. "What part of that don't you understand, woman?"

Cersei gathered up her skirts and her dignity and led the way to the door. Renly followed her, Stark’s men on his tail. Only Pycelle dared to linger, his hands shaking as he offered Robert a cup of thick white liquid. "The milk of the poppy, Your Grace," Renly heard him say, before the door shut heavily behind them and the cool air washed over his face like a wave.

Leaving Cersei to deal with the anxious  questions of the Kingsguard, Renly closed his eyes and leant heavily against the cold stone walls. They were a relief against his back, cool and solid, and sighing, he made to push his soaked hair off his forehead, breathing deeply.

He barely noticed when the door opened and Pycelle joined them outside. He did notice though when Cersei addressed him, her voice sharp through the fog of Renly’s exhaustion.

“Robert tells me that he’s given you the instructions for his burial.”

Renly opened his eyes wearily, his eyelids feeling like lead. “Yes,” he told her blankly. “He wants to be buried at Storm’s End. With his hammer from the Trident.”

“As his grace wishes,” Cersei said. She dropped her voice, taking Renly's arm and leading him down the empty corridor, out of earshot of the Kingsguard. “And perhaps, Lord Renly," she whispered, "if you were wise, you might accompany him and the silent sisters on the road."

Renly nodded. “Yes, your grace.” He'd certainly return to Storm's End to see Robert interred. 

Cersei leant in close at that, so close that her breath would have tickled his cheek had she been taller. “And perhaps, Lord Renly,” she hissed, “if you were even wiser still, you might stay there.”

Renly only vaguely heard her. “Stay there?” he murmured. “But I’m the Master of Laws.”

“Yes,” she agreed. “You’re Robert’s Master of Laws. You shan’t be Joffrey’s.”

Renly blinked. “Shall I not?” he asked slowly, looking down at her. “As far as I was aware, Joffrey is not of age, your grace. I know my brother well. It shall be Lord Stark who shall be named Protector, and it shall be Lord Stark who dismisses me if I am to be dismissed.”

To his surprise, Cersei began to laugh. It was a soft, cold laugh. “Lord Renly,” she smiled, her voice laced with poison. “You are more like your brother indeed if you think that Lord Stark shall have any power this far south once Robert is dead.”

Renly bit back a sigh; he was too tired for games. There was a thinly veiled threat in her words though that he saw as clear as day. It breathed a little life back into him. “There will be a letter,” he told her dryly, “Robert shall declare Lord Stark Protector of the Realm; he will give him the regency. The council must honour his words.”

“The words of a dead man,” Cersei said quietly, dismissively. “Tell me Lord Renly, what are words?”

Renly raised an eyebrow, not liking her tone. He decided to humour her. “Wind,” he murmured.

“Wind,” Cersei repeated softly. “And no piece of paper shall change that.” She leant in close. “When Robert dies, Lord Renly, his power shall die with him. He shall be Stark’s shield no more.” She paused, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Nor yours.”

Renly met her gaze. “Are you threatening me, good sister?” he breathed.

“You tell me, Lord Renly,” she murmured, “after all, I believe you're quite well versed in threats.” Her words hanging in the silence, she turned on her heel and disappeared into the darkness of the corridor.

Watching her leave, Renly thought back on the last time he had spoken to Cersei. Robert had been alive and well then, and as much as it left a bitter taste in his mouth, she was right about him having been a shield. Without Robert, Renly knew he had few resources left to him. Joffrey bore him no love, his nephew as he was. He would no longer be brother to the king, but an uncle who curried no favour. It was most certainly a threat that Cersei had dealt him. She wanted the regency from Ned Stark, and she wanted anybody who opposed that out of the way.

Her skirts had barely disappeared around the corner when the doors to Robert’s chamber opened again. Her words still ringing in his mind, he made his way back down the corridor again and into the gods-forsaken room that Robert had been consigned to die in. 

A letter was in Lord Stark's hands, presumably the regency, and Renly realised why they'd been called back in. It was to bear witness to the sealing of it, so that the council could be sure that nobody had tampered with it. He watched silently as Robert pressed his seal into the hot yellow wax that Stark had dripped upon his letter, leaving a smear of blood across it. No doubt inside was written Lord Stark's name alongside Robert's final words.

That done, Robert's hand fell back against the pillows. "Now give me something for the pain and let me die," he groaned.

Renly gulped at that, but he stood up straight as Maester Pycelle mixed his brother yet more milk of the poppy. Robert drank deeply, his black beard beaded with thick white droplets when he threw the empty cup aside. "Will I dream?" he asked.

It was Stark who gave him his answer. "You will, my lord."

"Good," Robert managed, a weak smile upon his lips. "I will give Lyanna your love, Ned. Take care of my children for me."

Renly was unsurprised that Robert’s last goodbye was to Ned Stark and to be honest he was too preoccupied to care. His mind was still outside with Cersei, in the dim corridor. He didn't even hear Stark's reply but he saw Robert nodding and closing his eyes. The milk of the poppy washed the pain from his face and Renly felt the relief as if it were his own. He was almost glad when Robert sagged into the pillows, sleep taking him. 

The room was quiet then, filled with only the soft sound of heavy chains jangling as Grand Maester Pycelle came up to them. "I will do all in my power, my lord," he murmured to Stark, "but the wound has mortified. It took them two days to get him back. By the time I saw him, it was too late. I can lessen His Grace's suffering, but only the gods can heal him now."

"How long?" Stark asked.

"By rights, he should be dead already. I have never seen a man cling to life so fiercely."

Renly let out a sigh. "My brother was always strong," he told them. "Not wise, perhaps, but strong." He looked back at Robert’s pale face, still a little surprised to see him so, for even now he expected to see the fierce man who had always been his brother. "He slew the boar. His entrails were sliding from his belly, yet somehow he slew the boar."

"Robert was never a man to leave the battleground so long as a foe remained standing," Stark told him.

Renly said nothing. He hung back when Stark and Pyelle left, sitting back down at Robert’s bedside and wondering what was to be done for the best. As much as he wished it weren’t the case, Cersei, he knew, had made her point well. Robert’s words would mean little once he was in the grave. Cersei would not surrender the regency. The Hand would tell Joffrey one thing and the queen another, and the tug of war would begin. It would be over quickly, Renly imagined. Stark would have little success in controlling Joffrey. Children, Renly knew, even those so cruel as Joffrey, had a tendency of listening to their mothers, and it was clear that Joffrey bore no love for Lord Stark. It did not help either that Stark’s strength was all but bled dry, several of his men dead at the Kingslayer’s hands, and many more riding apparently with Ser Beric in his hunt for Gregor Clegane.

Whilst he would be the king, Joffrey would be nothing more than a pawn, Renly thought, but an important one all the same, the tipping point perhaps when the scales were otherwise balanced. Left alone, he would be his mother’s pawn, but taken in hand, he would be the only weapon that Renly imagined he could use against her, his leverage so to speak. Whoever held Joffrey would hold the regency, regardless of any letter and regardless of Cersei’s lust for power. As indeed, for all Cersei’s ice, she was not as cold as she seemed, Renly knew. Like any mother, she loved her children, all three of them, even the monstrosity that was her first born. It was her one weakness perhaps, and one that Renly suspected he could exploit.

Sighing, Renly looked down at his dying brother. Joffrey took after him very little, Renly knew. He made enemies where Robert made friends, sought fights where Robert would have shared a flagon of wine and somebody's daughter. Renly had thought him often a monster, and he wondered now if he could ever make an ally of him. Taken out of his mother’s poisonous grasp, there might perhaps be hope for him, Renly mused. He was a Baratheon after all, bound to him by blood. He could be sent to Winterfell perhaps, married to the Stark girl and moulded from a cruel boy into a tolerable man. Tommen meanwhile could be sent to Highgarden and betrothed to Margaery if Mace was willing. And if it did turn out that Cersei’s poison had sunk too deep and that Joffrey was a lost cause, he could easily be disposed of, replaced with pliable Tommen, or even sweet Myrcella. Once Cersei was separated from her children, there would be time aplenty to work out how best to proceed, Renly thought. Once they had Joffrey, Lord Stark would be confirmed as the Lord Regent and Cersei would not dare kick up a fuss.

His mind made up, he got to his feet to chase after Stark . Once Stark was in agreement, the only question now was a game of numbers. Joffrey’s door would be heavily guarded, Renly knew, by men in red cloaks, by _many_ men in red cloaks. Even Tommen and Mycella would be difficult to reach, and yet Renly knew that it could be done. Ser Guyard had a few men of his own, as did many other of the men who travelled in his retinue. Ser Balon Swann could probably be called on too, his father sworn to Renly as he was, and so could the men belonging to Beric Dondarrion if any remained. Loras’ guard was as sizeable as his own, and if they were fortunate, Renly imagined that Loras might be able to persuade his cousins, the Redwyne twins, to aid them. 

Lord Stark was across the bridge when Renly emerged from Maegor's Holdfast. "Lord Eddard," he called after him, his voice carrying dangerously on the night's air, "a moment, if you would be so kind."

Lord Stark stopped, but cautiously. "As you wish."

Renly walked quickly to his side. "Send your men away,” he told him. They met in the centre of the bridge, the dry moat beneath them. Moonlight silvered the cruel edges of the spikes that lined its bed and Renly gulped. It was what Cersei would intend for them if they attempted to seize Joffrey and failed. It was a poor fate, and yet Renly imagined that Cersei would intend to see that they eventually met the same end regardless of how they acted tonight. An end that anybody who posed a threat to her would meet. 

Lord Stark gestured. His men bowed their heads and backed away respectfully. Renly glanced warily at Ser Boros on the far end of the span, at Ser Preston in the doorway behind them. He did not want this conversation overheard, least of all by the Kingsguard. "That letter," he asked, leaning close. "Was it the regency? Has my brother named you Protector?" Stark’s face confirmed his thoughts and he did not bother waiting for a reply. "My lord, I have thirty men in my personal guard, and other friends beside, knights and lords. Give me an hour, and I can put a hundred swords in your hand."

Lord Stark’s face was stony. "And what should I do with a hundred swords, my lord?"

"Strike!" Renly urged him. "Now, while the castle sleeps." He looked back at Ser Boros again and dropped his voice to a whisper. "We must get Joffrey away from his mother and take him in hand. Protector or not, the man who holds the king holds the kingdom. We should seize Myrcella and Tommen as well. Once we have her children, Cersei will not dare oppose us. The council will confirm you as Lord Protector and make Joffrey your ward."

The Hand regarded him coldly. "Robert is not dead yet," he said stoically, "The gods may spare him. If not, I shall convene the council to hear his final words and consider the matter of the succession, but I will not dishonour his last hours on earth by shedding blood in his halls and dragging frightened children from their beds."

Raising an eyebrow, Renly took a step back. "Every moment you delay gives Cersei another moment to prepare,” he warned. “By the time Robert dies, it may be too late . . . for both of us." Cersei, he knew, would be merciless; she would be ruthless. She would deal swiftly with anyone and everyone who posed a threat to her control of Joffrey and she would seize the regency if she was given even half the chance. 

Stark apparently intended to give her every chance. He didn't even seem to consider Renly's words for a moment. "Then we should pray that Robert does not die,” he said icily.

"Small chance of that," Renly said, his patience leaving him. 

"Sometimes the gods are merciful."

"The Lannisters are not,” Renly snapped, turning away. He knew a lost cause when he saw one. 

 

* * *

 

 

Renly wanted to curse Eddard Stark with every insult he knew as he made his way back into Maegor’s Holdfast, where Robert still lay dying. He could not even begin to understand the Hand's reasoning. If Stark wanted to honour Robert’s last wishes, then handing the regency to Cersei on a plate surely wasn’t the way to go about it.

There was little Renly could do now though, he supposed. Acting alone was dangerous, more than dangerous perhaps. Without the Hand of the King’s consent, attempting to seize Joffrey amounted to high treason, and Renly would not ask that of his men. He certainly wouldn’t ask it of Loras, not when the chances of them succeeding were slim at best and the penalties so severe. The casualties would be high, and even if they did have a stroke of luck and manage to take Joffrey into their custody, holding him would be nigh impossible without the claim that Stark had to the regency. 

He'd reached Robert’s chambers now. They were still stifling, and Renly sat down heavily on the edge of Robert’s bed. Looking down at his still body, Renly sighed, at a loss for what to do. He knew well that he needed to get out of the city, and fast, before Cersei began rooting out anybody who might oppose her. But Robert still clung to life, stubbornly so, and Renly’s conscience protested.

Pycelle had returned in his absence and was sat by the fire boiling more wine. Renly turned to him. “Will he wake again?” he asked quietly.

“No, my lord,” Pycelle murmured.

Renly felt only a little guilt as he rose and made his way from Robert’s side for what would be the final time.

 

* * *

 

The keep was eerily silent as Renly walked through its many deserted corridors, and his heart was beating loudly in his chest by the time that he reached his own quarters, thumping with every step he took.

He’d sent Alyn to bed hours ago, along with the rest of his men, and yet now he knocked loudly on the door that led to his squire’s adjoining chambers. 

His squire emerged wearily, dog-tired and a pained look upon his face. Renly couldn’t blame him. They’d marched day and night to get Robert back; there had been no time for sleep, no time even for rest. Every lord, knight and squire had suffered for it.

“I need you to dress,” Renly told him, walking past him into his chambers, meaning to instruct him as he dressed. “As quickly as you can.”

Alyn looked more than a little taken aback, but he followed Renly back into his chambers and lit a candle before going to his wardrobe. “What is it, my lord?” he asked, pulling off his nightshirt and grabbing the first tunic he laid his hands on. Anxiety had chased the tiredness from his face and he looked earnestly at Renly from across the room. 

“We’re leaving.”

Alyn turned, elbow caught in his sleeve as he struggled to get it on. “ _Leaving?”_ he breathed.

“Yes,” Renly said shortly. He offered him no more information. “I need you to go and fetch Loras for me.”

“ _Now?”_ Alyn asked, eyes wide. “But it’s long past midnight.”

“Drag him from bed if you have to,” Renly told him. He knew far too well how foolish he would have to be to leave Loras behind. Whilst Joffrey could be used as leverage against Cersei, Loras was prime leverage to be used against him.

Alyn nodded slowly. “What if nobody comes to the door?” he whispered.

Renly sighed heavily; he didn't have time for all the questions. “The top drawer of my writing desk," he told him, "There’s a silver key in there. Unlock his door if you have to.”

Alyn didn’t appear comforted; if anything, his face was laced with fear. “And he’ll agree to accompany us?”

“Don’t give him a choice,” Renly told him. “Tell him to rouse his men and that I want him ready to leave in an hour at most. We’ll travel light and we'll raise no banners.”

Alyn gulped, his Adam's Apple bobbing in his throat. “Yes, my lord," he whispered. He paused, “Should I give him a reason?”

“No,” Renly sighed. There were too many reasons. Leaving Alyn to finish dressing, he went to rouse his own men.

 

* * *

 

 

Renly and his retinue were just about mounted by the time that Loras and his men joined them under the cover of darkness. Every buckle on the saddle and every whinny of the horses echoed like thunder in the silence of the courtyard and Renly found his eyes drawn to every window above them, sure that Cersei was watching, her eyes following them through the darkness.

He flinched when somebody touched his arm, his hand immediately going to the hilt of his sword. It was half way out of its sheath by the time he recognised Loras’ startled face in the darkness.

Firmly, Loras pushed Renly’s sword back into its sheath. His other hand went to Renly’s arm and he pulled him quickly aside. “What’s happening?” he breathed, his voice an urgent whisper. "Why are we leaving?"

“Robert’s dead.”

The hand on Renly’s arm softened and Loras’ eyes widened in the darkness. He looked like a child again; for once, he evidently didn’t know what to say and he just stood there, fingers holding loosely onto the bloodied fabric of Renly’s sleeve.

“Get on your horse,” Renly told him.

Loras obeyed without a word and he was right on Renly’s tail as they galloped through the southern gates, the city fading into darkness behind them.


	127. Chapter 127

It was instinct that led Renly to take the southern gate out of the city, and instinct too that guided him onto the Kingsroad. Storm's End lay at the very end of that road, and so Renly followed it almost blindly, leading his men deep into the Kingswood, retracing his steps as it were, for it was only hours ago that Robert had been carried, dying, up the very same road.

They rode relentlessly, barely stopping even to rest the horses. Those men that had been on the hunt with Renly could barely stay awake in their saddles, and yet Renly found he barely even had it in him to care. For once, he pressed his men on even though they were tired, even though they barely had the strength to keep going. They followed his commands without hesitation though; never before had Renly demanded that they leave the city in such haste, and no doubt, the urgency was tangible in the air. Indeed, it was a silent, tense ride, and even Renly found that he had no desire for words, not even between him and Loras. The silence that had driven him almost mad for the past two days now bothered him little. He was too tired for words, and far too tired for conversations.

Renly didn’t know how much time passed before they crossed the Wendwater, but he knew that he was glad when they did. The trees began to thin once they were south of the river, the Crownlands slowly giving way to the Stormlands, and Renly felt himself revive a little as they began to glimpse the tall turrets of Felwood through the trees. Whilst a small, unassuming keep, it marked the northern edge of Renly’s lands, and it was only once they were across that border that Renly would allow them to stop and rest.

It was a long after dusk by the time that they sighted Felwood’s gates, the state of his men and the horses necessitating that they slow the pace. It was only then that they hoisted Renly’s banners, and as such, Lord Fell sent men to meet them at the gate to his small holdfast despite the hour.

It was a landed knight who greeted them, and he seemed most taken aback when Renly ordered him to take what men he had on duty to guard the northern border. He was a young bold thing though, a little like Loras perhaps in temperament, and the prospect seemed to thrill him. It was with much enthusiasm thus that he rallied a group of men together for his task, bowing very low to Renly several times in his haste to follow his orders.

Lord Fell had not risen from bed, but his steward was kind enough to find Renly and his men rooms for the night. It was luxurious chambers which Renly was shown to, where he could pass the night in comfort, and yet Renly had no inclination to sleep. He sent Alyn away when his squire tried to prepare him for bed, and instead he stood by the window, watching the stars glitter above the distant blackness that he knew was the Narrow Sea. He wondered if Robert was dead yet. Surely he had to be; his wound had been far too terrible for him to cling to life much longer.

He was still staring out to the distant sea when he heard the door creak open behind him. It was most certainly Loras and Renly let out a sigh. It was the first time they’d been alone together in a long time, since before the hunt, Renly supposed. It couldn’t have been more than a week or so ago, but it felt like a lifetime. Robert had been alive and well back then, full of life, full of vigour. He'd probably be in the ground before long.

“Alyn tells me you don't want to go to bed,” Loras murmured, coming to stand behind Renly and wrapping his arms around his chest.

"I'm not tired."

"Yes you are," Loras corrected quietly. "You haven’t slept in three days.”

Renly leant back against him, almost surprised to feel how solid Loras was. He'd been expecting almost to fall right through him, like a stone would sink through water. “I won’t sleep,” he murmured.

“You’ll sleep,” Loras told him. Firmly, he pulled the heavy drapes across the windows, shrouding the room in darkness. He went to light several candles before he came back for Renly, and gently, he took Renly’s hand, leading him to bed.

Renly let him undress him silently, closing his eyes at the soft press of Loras’ fingers against his skin. It was familiar, comforting, and Renly felt his shoulders sag, the sense of urgency that had possessed him since their flight from King’s Landing slowly ebbing away. Loras was doing little more than brushing his fingertips across his skin and yet Renly felt the tension seep out of him. He was left boneless, his knees trembling beneath him as he let himself relax.

Loras made no mention of the fact that his clothes were filthy, soaked with sweat and stained with dried blood. He just folded them neatly on a nearby chair and sat Renly down on the edge of the bed when he was done.

Renly watched rather blankly as Loras then fetched a small basin of water from the table, presumably left by the Lord Felwood’s servants for them. There was a cloth within it, and Loras wrung it out before lifting it to Renly’s skin. He couldn’t wash him properly, not with such a small cloth and bowl of water, but he scrubbed most of the dirt and blood from his skin at least, lifting his arms too so that he could wash beneath them. The water was an ugly brownish red colour by the time Loras had finished.

“You’ll feel better now,” he murmured, patting Renly dry with a towel. Helping him to his feet again, he lifted the bedclothes for Renly to get in.

Renly did so wearily, staring up at the ceiling and feeling the bed dip as Loras sat down on the edge beside him. He couldn’t even remember how many days had passed since he’d felt a bed beneath him, and yet he didn’t feel at all like sleeping.

“I told you,” Renly whispered. “I won’t sleep.”

“You’ll sleep,” Loras repeated, a hand coming to rest against Renly’s cheek.

He was right. Renly slept as soon as he shut his eyes, Loras’ fingers still warm against his skin.

 

* * *

 

 

Renly was awoken by the sound of bells in the distance. They tolled solemnly, a slow chime that spoke of sorrow. They tolled for a dead king and Renly knew then that Robert was dead. He’d probably been dead for some time; the bells had merely caught up with them.

The curtains were still drawn, and Loras was still sat beside him, though bathed and dressed now, in clothes that clearly had been borrowed. A hand went to Renly’s hair, stroking it back off his face. His fingers were gentle.

“How long have I slept?” Renly croaked. His throat was parched, his tongue dry.

“A day and a half. On and off."

A day and a half… Renly tried to wet his lips with his tongue but it felt like sandpaper. A cup was quickly lifted to his mouth and he drank gratefully, sitting up a little. He only vaguely remembered waking sometime earlier; Loras had been in bed beside him then, telling him to go back to sleep.

The bells tolled again now, and Loras’ face grew anxious above him. The expression suited him ill. It unsettled Renly perhaps more than even Robert's wound had. He wasn't used to seeing Loras so meek and quiet like this, and he looked more like Willas than Renly had ever imagined he could.

“How are you feeling?” he whispered.

Renly wiped the sleep out of his eyes. His hands still smelt of smoke and blood despite Loras’ efforts. He didn’t know how he felt. He knew he ought to be grieving but no grief would come. He felt numb perhaps, as if someone had ripped a hole in his chest, a hole which ought to hurt but didn’t.

“I’m fine,” he sighed, his voice hoarse.

Loras’ face grew anxious again. “Fine?” he echoed. “You don’t mean that, Renly. You don’t have to pretend, not with me at least.”

The sad thing was that Renly did mean it; there was no pretence in the words that he’d just spoken to Loras. He closed his eyes though and didn’t bother to argue. He could never have expected Loras to understand him. Loras loved his brothers; he wasn’t truly capable of understanding that Renly didn't. He might have come close to understanding Renly's lack of grief if it had been Stannis that would soon be in the grave, but alas, it was Robert, the better of Renly's brothers.

“Ser Guyard told me how he died,” Loras breathed. “I’m sorry, Renly.”

Renly merely nodded. He thought back to the boar, how it had gored his brother open. He wondered if he was callous, unfeeling, for not even being able to shed a few tears. It frustrated him and he pulled Loras close, seeking the warmth of him.

“I’m sorry I’m so filthy,” he murmured as Loras wrapped his body around his own. “I need to bathe. Robert’s chambers, they were stifling. I thought I was going to suffocate.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Loras said softly. He cradled Renly’s head in the crook of his neck, kissing his hair.

Breathing in Loras’ scent, Renly wondered if he ought to be weeping. Loras certainly expected him to be, and Renly almost wanted to try, if only for Loras’ sake. Sighing though, he merely leant his head against Loras’ shoulder, the rough fabric of his borrowed clothes scratching his cheek. If Loras was expecting him to break down and cry, he would waiting a long time.

 

* * *

 

 

Renly rose as soon as he found the energy. Loras had found him some clothes, and as was to be expected, it was mourning clothes that he’d laid out on the bed for him: a doublet in faded black silk and a cape of black wool, all very plain and unadorned. Drab and dreary, they were the sort of clothes that Renly could imagine Stannis in, and looking at them made his chest feel strangely tight. They were what Loras had chosen for him today though and so he forced a smile and didn’t complain.

Loras had had a bath brought up for him too, and Renly thought he’d do well to take advantage of that before he even contemplated dressing. He sunk into it gladly. It was already a little tepid and yet Renly didn’t have it in him to care for once. He’d have bathed in icy water if it was all that had been available. Despite Loras’ efforts to clean him up a little, his skin was still coated with a thin layer of mud and grime, and Renly was surprised that Loras had managed to stomach sharing a bed with him at all.

Loras seemed unfazed though by the filth that Renly scrubbed quickly off his skin, and he sat quietly by the side of the tub, the tolling bells speaking for both of them.

“Robert must be dead,” Renly said eventually, his fingers not working properly as he picked up the bar of soap.

Loras frowned. “He wasn’t dead when we left?”

“Dying.”

Loras said nothing to that, but his expression said it all.

“You think I should have stayed with him,” Renly said flatly.

Loras closed his eyes. “I didn’t say that,” he murmured.

“But you’re thinking it.” Renly didn't bother phrasing it as a question. He knew it was true.

Loras seemed to deliberate for a few moments. “I think you should have stayed,” he agreed eventually. “But it wasn’t my decision to make. It was yours.”

Renly said nothing. He knew better than to try and make Loras agree with his decision to leave his brother's side. He couldn't ignore the pang of guilt though that Loras' words brought to his stomach. Strangely, he felt more shame in Loras' disappointment in him than in the fact that he'd left his eldest brother to die alone. That said, Stannis, he knew, would have stayed until the end. He'd have done his duty regardless of any threat Cersei might have dealt him, regardless even of the complete lack of affection between him and Robert.

“Are there any tidings from King’s Landing yet?” he asked Loras after a few moments of washing himself in silence.

“Yes,” Loras murmured. “This morning's traders brought much with them.”

“What do they say?” Renly sat up a little straighter in the tub.

Loras met his gaze. “That Robert is dead,” he said simply. Once more though, the expression on his face spoke for him. It told Renly that a lot more had been said than that.

“And?” Renly prompted wearily.

“And there are whispers that the new king has named you traitor.”

Renly looked up. “ _Traitor?”_ he laughed. The sound was hollow. Of all things, he hadn't been expecting that. He wouldn't have imagined Cersei quite so bold as to fabricate such lies, not when he had played so well into her hands by fleeing the capital.

Loras nodded though. “Yes," he said, "They say that Lord Eddard Stark has been thrown in the black cells to rot, accused of conspiring to commit treason with yourself and Stannis.” He paused, meeting Renly’s eye. “They say that you conspired to deny Joffrey his throne.”

That made little sense to Renly. Of all the people likely to commit treason, both Stannis and Eddard Stark would have been at the very bottom of his list. He wondered how Cersei had managed to incriminate them. “Has Cersei been named Queen Regent then?” he asked.

“I believe so.”

Renly nodded. He’d expected as much. Ned Stark had had little chance of being named Regent as soon as he'd left the capital. Only he and Pycelle had witnessed Robert seal the letter containing the Regency, and it was certain that Pycelle's memory would conveniently fail him. It was well known that the Grand Maester was very deep in the queen's pocket. “All right then,” he murmured, mulling that piece of information over as he wrung his hair out.

Loras bit down on his lower lip. “Is that all you’re going to say?”

“Well what else is there to say?” Renly asked him.

Loras shrugged. “Well is it true?” he whispered urgently. _"Did_ you try to strip Joffrey of his throne?”

Renly rolled his eyes. Admittedly, he'd intended that Cersei not be named Regent, but he'd had no intention of attempting to shift the inheritance away from Joffrey. The throne was his by birth, and as unpleasant an idea as Joffrey ruling was, Renly knew that he'd have been cut down by a hundred swords if he'd tried to prevent Joffrey succeeding. Ser Barristan Selmy would never have allowed it. “Don’t be ludicrous," he told Loras, a little taken aback that Loras would think him so rash.

“It’s not ludicrous at all,” Loras protested. “I know full well that you and my sister were conspiring to strip Joffrey of his throne; that you intended for Robert to take her as wife and cast Cersei and her children aside. That was thinly veiled treason too. Joffrey may well be a monster, but he is Robert’s heir by right.”

Renly had never thought of his plans with Margaery as treason, but he supposed Loras to have a point. Personally, he thought he'd have been doing the realm a favour by replacing Cersei with Margaery, and Joffrey with any sons Margaery bore, but Cersei and the Lannisters would no doubt have had a different view of things.

“I suppose so,” he admitted, “But no, I played no part in any attempts to oppose Joffrey’s succession. I may have intended that Cersei did not rule as Regent, as Robert’s last decree was for it to be Stark, and it would have suited me a lot better. But I had no intention of denying Joffrey his throne.”

“No?” Loras asked. He seemed surprised almost.

Renly raised a thin smile at his expression. “I wish I had now though,” he laughed bitterly. “ _Treason_ … Our new king has the Kingslayer as his favourite uncle and Tywin Lannister for a grandfather, the man who persuaded the Mad King to open the gates of King’s Landing to him only to sack it.”

Loras gave a wry smile. “He also had Robert for a father,” he said softly.

“True,” Renly mused, his chest clenching ever so slightly at Robert’s name. He always forgot that aspect of Robert's rebellion, and he thought it ironic perhaps that he’d earlier decided both Ned Stark and Stannis to be incapable of treason, considering that both had committed it against Aerys by fighting to place Robert on the throne. “But treason is only treason if you lose," he told Loras. "It's just a word. It doesn't mean anything really. The only question now is how we remove Cersei.”

Loras raised an eyebrow. “You actually intend on doing that?”

“Well what choice do I have?” Renly asked him, rising from the bath wearily and finding his legs unsteady. “If I’ve been named traitor as you say? I’m not going to sit idly by and wait for her to lop off my head. Nor will I give up Storm’s End either. _Choices_ are rather lacking to me.”

“You do have a choice actually,” Loras murmured, standing to help Renly dress in the dreary mourning clothes that he'd evidently thought appropriate. “They say that Joffrey has summoned almost every lord and knight in the seven kingdoms to present themselves in the capital and swear fealty to him. There was a list apparently read out in court.”

“And my name was on it?”

“Yes,” Loras told him, “and mine. My father too, and Willas and Garlan. It was a very long list apparently.”

Renly sighed, buttoning up the cheerless black doublet. “And if we don’t answer the summons?”

“We’ll be stripped of all lands and titles. And be adjudged traitors.”

Renly nodded. That was unsurprising considering Joffrey’s nature. He thought it a pity though that a king might have to resort to such draconian measures before he had even been crowned. It would mark the beginning of his reign rather nicely, Renly supposed. Where the best kings had inspired respect, Jofrrey clearly intended to rule through fear, through threats. His reign would most likely be a short one; Renly knew that one only had to glance at the history books to realise that tyrannical kings tended to live perilously short lives. They created enemies out of every shadow, and it was usually not long at all before their subjects turned on them.

“Will your father answer the summons?” Renly asked, contemplative. Of all Joffrey’s subjects, Mace Tyrell was perhaps one of the more crucial ones, a lord whose support Joffrey might well need. Rivverrun and Winterfell would not take well to Lord Stark's incarceration, that much was certain. Dorne, meanwhile, would likely not answer the summons either, nor the Iron Islands. Both the Dornish and the Islanders did not bend the knee by nature, Renly knew, and both regions would no doubt seize the opportunity of an already divided realm to claw back their independence. Mace Tyrell, on the other hand, was a different kettle of fish. He was more skilled at bending the knee than most whores were. Some men were made to be kings, and some to be subjects. Mace Tyrell was one of those men.

“Well I expect he shall answer the summons,” Loras told him. “My family has no particular quarrel with Joffrey or the Lannisters." His eyes flicked up to Renly's face, gold eyes searching his expression. "Will you?”

Renly didn't have to consider the question long. “No,” he said, thinking of Cersei whispering in her boy’s ear. Left to his mother, the boy would be King Aerys reborn. A monster already, the power would rot him further. Instead of cutting kittens from their mother’s stomach, it would most like be unborn babes next. “I shan’t,” he said. He turned to Loras. “Will you?”

Loras’ face grew pained, and Renly regretted the question immediately. It was a terrible thing perhaps that he’d just asked of Loras. He was asking him to likely break ranks with his family, to betray the crown.

He looked up at Renly with no fear in his eyes though. “No,” he said eventually. “I shan’t answer the summons if you don’t.”

“No?” Renly breathed, sinking back down onto the bed. “I wouldn’t hold it against you. I'll understand that you might want to follow your father's judgement.”

But Loras shook his head. “No, Renly,” he said, sitting back down on the bed beside him. “I promised myself a long time ago now that I’d follow wherever you led. "He raised a smile. "-to the ends of the earth and back again if I had to. I shan’t go anywhere you don’t go.”

Renly reached out to touch a curl. “Well that’s a blessing to hear,” he laughed under his breath, wrapping an arm around Loras’ waist. “Because I think I'd suffer a thousand Joffreys before I'd willingly go anywhere you couldn't follow.” He'd said it half in jest, all too aware that he sounded more like a lovestruck Florian the Fool than he usually did, and yet he didn't doubt the truth in his words.

Indeed, Loras gave him a smile, leaning into Renly's side. He seemed to fit well there, and Renly let out a sigh. He wondered if it made him a terrible man indeed that he could raise more feeling for Loras right now than he could for his brother. He looked down at his mourning clothes and wondered if his men too would expect him to be in grieving. He imagined that they probably would.

“How are we going to get rid of Cersei then?” Loras asked after a few moments had passed.

“I don’t know yet,” Renly admitted. “I haven't thought that far ahead yet. I want to know how your father intends to act. And then, I suppose, we shall wait.”

Loras frowned. “Wait?"

Renly nodded. "War is brewing, Loras,” he sighed, “regardless of how I act. The more Joffrey is weakened, the more likely it is that some sort of opportunity will present itself, whatever that opportunity may turn out to be. And the wind is in my favour perhaps; even if I sit entirely idle, Joffrey will likely be left with half a kingdom.”

Loras cocked his head. “And why’s that?” he asked.

“So many reasons,” Renly told him. “Because he’s inherited a very unstable throne. Because he’s the youngest king to have ever sat it. Because very few men will ever accept a woman as Regent, least of all Joffey himself.” He smiled tightly, running a hand through his hair. “Lady Catelyn has seized the Imp, you tell me that Cersei has Eddard Stark in the black cells. Tywin and Jaime Lannister are amassing armies on the edge of the Riverlands. Hoster Tully has called his banners. And as soon as news of Stark’s imprisonment spreads, his son will call the North's banners too.”

“And meanwhile you shall do nothing but wait?” Loras asked. He seemed a little disappointed. 

“No,” Renly laughed quietly. “I shall call my own banners. And then we shall wait.”


	128. Chapter 128

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, been a bit sidetracked by one of my other stories recently! Hopefully should be back on track at least for a while :D Hope you enjoy xx

That afternoon Renly sat down with Ser Guyard. He too was in borrowed clothes, and like Loras, he evidently thought mourning clothes appropriate. Renly thought it might have been the first time he’d seen the man out of green, and he had to think that he looked quite strange. Like Loras, Guyard did not suit the plain black wools of mourning. He looked like a fish out of water without his bright green cloak.

Renly sighed as he took his seat, pushing his hair off his face and tucking it behind his ear. It was slightly longer than he usually wore it and yet he thought it looked rather regal. He thought perhaps he might not cut it this time.

When he looked up, Guyard was looking at him intently. There was sympathy in his gaze; like Loras, he evidently expected him to be in deep grief. He too was to be disappointed.

“Do we head to Storm’s End?” he asked quietly.

Renly met his eye. “No,” he said. “I mean to head east and join the Roseroad.”

Ser Guyard nodded. “For what purpose, my lord?”

Renly sat up a little straighter in his chair. “I want to see how Mace Tyrell intends to act,” he explained. “And to establish whether he intends to heed the summons to King’s Landing.” He paused there, contemplative. There was a seed of an idea jostling around in his mind, a seed which grew stronger each time he thought a little more on how terrible a king Joffrey would be, but he dared not voice it. It was tempting, especially with Ser Guyard sat opposite him, who no doubt would agree with any idea of his regardless of its merit, but he needed to be able to gauge Highgarden first.

If Ser Guyard thought that seeking Mace Tyrell’s opinion in Highgarden was a strange idea, he didn’t show it. He nodded along quite cheerfully, for a few moments at least, until he evidently decided that he was expected to be sombre following the death of the king.

“I presume we’re not heeding the summons, my lord,” he said, quite seriously.

It was a tone of voice that Renly didn’t hear him use often and he smiled. “What makes you think that?” he asked.

Guyard returned the smile almost slyly. “Perhaps it was something to do with us leaving just before dawn,” he commented, meeting Renly’s gaze with a slightly arched eyebrow.

Renly would have laughed had it been acceptable so soon after Robert’s death. “Indeed,” he agreed though. “We definitely shan’t be heeding the summons.”

Guyard nodded. “So what do we mean to do instead?”

Renly paused. “I shall call the banners,” he said slowly. He smiled to see Ser Guyard’s eyes widen: after all, it had been almost a decade since those bells had rung out across the Stormlands, almost ten years since Storm’s End had called its banners to ride north against Balon Greyjoy. Renly remembered little of it; he’d been too young for war and it had been under Stannis that those men had sailed across Ironman’s Bay to victory at Great Wyk.

“And then what?” Ser Guyard breathed, his voice an urgent whisper. Renly could almost see the cogs in his head turning as he imagined himself commanding those banners that Renly called.

“And then we shall wait in Highgarden,” Renly told him. “The North will surely rise against the crown in protest at Lord Stark’s imprisonment. The Riverlands too.” He chuckled despite the black clothes that hung heavy across his shoulders. “I doubt Joffrey will have much time to hunt down those who refuse his summons. Or at least I hope he doesn't.”

Guyard dared to chuckle too. “So we set off for Highgarden this afternoon?” he asked.

“Yes,” Renly agreed. He met Ser Guyard’s eye across the table. “But not you. I need you to do something for me.”

Ser Guyard immediately sat up a little taller; his eyes were a little brighter. “Of course, my lord. Anything you ask of me.”

Renly slipped a sealed letter out of his sleeve. He, or Loras rather, had written it earlier. He’d got as far as writing ‘Robert is dead’ by himself before his fingers had started shaking too much to hold the quill. What had come over him, Renly didn’t really know, but Loras had no doubt assumed him overcome by grief. He’d taken the quill silently out of Renly’s hands and for once had transcribed what Renly wanted to say without adding any of his own cheek to the words that Penrose would later read. Now, Renly ran his finger a little fondly over Loras’ handwriting before handing it to Guyard. It was slanted and very loopy, ostentatious like Loras’ armour, and Renly had long committed it to memory. He still remembered those long six months where he’d travelled the Stormlands without Loras; they’d exchanged more than fifteen letters during their absence from each other and Renly remembered being chastised by Penrose for his obsession with the ravens that had come from Storm’s End for him. Back then, Loras’ handwriting had sent shivers down his spine and made butterflies rise violent in his stomach; now, the feeling was a softer one a gentler one: it made his chest ache with a very familiar fondness.

It felt quite strange handing over something written in Loras’ hand to Ser Guyard and his fingers clutched at the edges of the letter a little involuntarily. Guyard took it though with a little awe, evidently honoured to have been trusted with something so important.

“I want you to put this in Penrose’s hands,” Renly instructed him.

“Yes, my lord.”

“And I want you to tell every keep you pass through that they shall not respond to the summons from King’s Landing, regardless of how many ravens are sent demanding that they do so.”

“Yes, my lord.” Nodding profusely, Ser Guyard rose to his feet, bowed, and swept out of the room.

 

* * *

 

 

Ser Guyard took only a couple of men with him to Storm’s End, and Renly found himself studying the remaining men as they rode west with some care. They were a group of fifty or so, evenly split between him and Loras. He ignored the men from Highgarden though; it was his own men that he watched. He moved his eyes from face to face. Most of them had taken him round the Stormlands when he’d come of age; over half of them had accompanied him through the desert to Sunspear and back, and every one amongst them had protected him in King’s Landing. Renly imagined that he would trust each and every one of them with his life.

As they rode, he wondered what his men would think of the idea that had possessed him. Joffrey, he knew, would not keep his crown long. He'd torture and maim until some kind knight put the kingdom out of his misery and slipped a knife in his back, or until Northern and Riverrun forces broke through the Mud Gate. Only his mother would mourn him, Renly reckoned.

He, meanwhile, was third in line to the throne now that Robert was dead. Tommen was eight, a child who would have a regent for almost a decade. Stannis on the other hand... well he was Stannis, and Renly didn't think he'd be able to find a more unlikely king even if he searched from the shores of Dorne to the tip of the Wall. When all the choices were so inappropriate, Renly reckoned it a small jump indeed from third in line to first in line.

Once more, he considered voicing the idea, certain that his men would think it a brilliant one. No doubt they would see the potential in it for titles and honours; no doubt they know too that Renly rewarded his friends more than generously, that he always had rewarded his friends generously.

He kept quiet though, silent atop his horse. His brother was not yet cold in the ground yet; he would at least have to try to grieve before any plans could be made.

 

* * *

 

 

The bells had stopped tolling for Robert’s death by the time they reached Bitterbridge. The ill tidings must have reached the people and yet the Reach appeared almost untouched by the death of the king. The inns were crowded as usual, fat men lazing at tables outsides and wenches carrying cups of ale with both hands, and whilst every now and then a little gossip would carry across the wind, it appeared that the smallfolk cared little for the death of a king. The talk was of the harvest, of the weather, of weddings and pretty girls and men who couldn't keep their hands to themselves.

Indeed, life was carrying on as usual so far south. Renly and his men stood out like sore thumbs on the road in their black silks; everywhere Renly looked there was colour. Green painted wagons still trundled up the dusty road, laden with sweet-smelling hay, the drivers flicking flies off the horses’ backs lazily with their whips. There were merchants too, atop finer steeds, their wains piled high with gold and silver silks, with blue and red and green velvets, with embroidered tapestries. And then there were the carts of fruit and vegetables, so colourful that Stannis might have thought it an insult to their brother's memory if he'd seen them. There were luscious strawberries and rosy apples, bunches of sweet purple grapes and piles of succulent peaches, carrots more orange than the fields on the Martell's sigil and heads of emerald broccoli as large as Renly's fist. He wondered absently if Cersei might have hidden an assassin amongst them, if at some point along the road, they would meet men sent by the new king to force them to heed his summons.

He was still thinking of Joffrey in King's Landing when Loras tapped him on the shoulder and handed him something.

He looked down absently. It was a peach. He ran a finger over its skin. It was smooth and silky, a little like Loras'.

“What’s this for?” he asked blankly. His mind was still far away, in the throne rooms of the capital, with a king who offended his crown.

Loras merely closed Renly's fingers around the fruit gently. “It’s for you to eat," he said softly. There was a small smile on his face and the sun caught his hair from behind, making the curls shimmer in the afternoon light. It brought a smile to Renly’s face too, and for a moment he didn’t care that Robert was dead, and that Cersei had adjudged him traitor, or even that a monster was ruling in King's Landing. He was simply riding in the sunshine with Loras, a piece of his fruit in his hand.

He took a bite. It was sweet, perfect. The taste was one he associated with summer afternoons and with Loras, and with name day presents brought back from Highgarden that were later enjoyed stretched across the lawns of Storm's End. It was a taste that reminded him that once they reached Highgarden, there would be singing and dancing, and plates of fruit eaten outside in shady courtyards. There would be lazy sunny days and the soft trickle of fountains, skilled tailors that would replenish his wardrobe for him in the finest of silks and feasts that Mace Tyrell would give in his honour.

He looked sideways at Loras and they caught each other’s eye. He couldn’t help but laugh.

It was laughter that Loras joined in with, and yet he looked a little confused. “Why are we laughing?” he asked.

Renly didn’t know really how to answer; he wasn’t quite sure why he was laughing if he was honest. It didn't make any particular sense, and Renly imagined that his men, twenty or so yards behind them, were probably wondering what on earth had got into their lord, so cheerful and yet clad in mourning clothes.

“Because of how fickle I am,” he said eventually. “My brother’s dead, Cersei is probably hunting us down as we speak, and all it takes to cheer me up is a particularly good peach and a smile from you.”

Loras’ cheeks dimpled in another smile despite himself. “You shouldn’t say such things,” he chastised though. “At least not out here on the road.”

Renly shrugged. “I was thinking of stopping at the next inn anyway.”

Loras looked up at the sky. The sun was still a long way from disappearing over the horizon. He looked at Renly with a little anxiety, twisting on his horse. “Are you tired?” he breathed.

Renly smiled. “Not particularly.”

Loras frowned, bemused. “Then why are we stopping?”

Renly grinned. “Come closer and I’ll tell you.”

Loras brought his mare alongside Renly’s. “Why then?” he repeated, head cocked slightly to the side.

“Well,” Renly whispered, hushing his voice so that even Loras had to lean in to hear. “We’re stopping because I want to bend you over the nearest bed and fuck you.”

Loras raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?” he asked lightly.

“Mmm,” Renly agreed. "It is so."

 

* * *

 

 

Less than an hour later, Renly made good on his word. Or at least part of it perhaps, for he hadn’t actually bent Loras over the bed. Instead, he had Loras flat on his back, pinned against the scratchy bed-sheets with his weight. He didn’t have much leverage like this, not pressed up to Loras’ body with their chests touching, but it allowed a little more intimacy. He could claim Loras’ lips with his own like this; he could kiss him as he liked. Personally, Renly thought it worth it.

Loras apparently didn’t agree. Breathless, he prised Renly’s hands from around his shoulders and placed them on the bed before giving his chest a hefty shove to get his weight off him.

“I thought you were going to fuck me,” he groaned. “Not kiss me like a maiden.”

Renly had thought he was doing both but he did as he was bid, lifting his weight off Loras and bracing himself with his hands. It was the angle that Loras was seeking. Raised off him like this, Renly knew that he hit the spot inside him that made Loras shudder, groan and cry out all at the same time.

Indeed, Renly soon felt sorry for Alyn in the next room. He couldn’t deny Loras his pleasure though, nor his own. Loras’ legs were wrapped like iron around his waist, anchoring him to him, guiding Renly’s thrusts as much as Renly himself was. His hands were hot around Renly’s wrists, fingers flitting between gentle caresses and digging into the backs of his arms like nails, hard enough to leave bruises. It was strange, Renly thought fleetingly, how such an aggressive act could be one of love. He didn’t stop to ponder it though; Loras’ arse was hot and tight around his cock, and splayed out underneath him, he was more gorgeous than Renly could properly comprehend. His arms had moved to Renly’s shoulders now and they were pulling Renly back into a time and place where Robert was still alive, where nothing more serious had mattered than making sure Loras didn’t make too much noise.

That was the least of his problems right now and Renly fucked him harder. His reward was a loud cry and the expression that ran across Loras’ face: a strange mix of pleasure and pain that made Renly’s breath come in short gasps. Loras would be sore in the morning- Renly was taking him more roughly than was ever wise, but nobody who saw his face could have denied that he wanted it. The ecstasy on his face was thinly veiled, the adoration even less so.

Renly slowed the rhythm, lost a little in the expression on Loras’ face. Loras adored him; it was obvious, and Renly thought he could probably voice anything to him.

He stilled inside Loras, sliding his hands back up to Loras’ face, knotting one in his tangled hair and resting the other on his cheek. Their chests were touching again, but this time Loras didn’t try to move him. He just closed his eyes and parted his lips slightly, a clear invitation to kiss him despite his earlier condescension. It was an invitation that Renly took him up on, and he closed his eyes too, tightening his hand in the mass of curls that were wound around his fingers.

“Loras,” Renly murmured against his lips. “Can I ask you a question."

"Course you can."

Renly paused contemplatively, feathering kisses along Loras' jaw until his lips were inches from his ear. "Do you think I would make a good king?” he breathed. 

It was voiced out loud now, it was suddenly no longer an idea but a _possibility_ , and Loras’ eyes widened. Silently, Renly wondered if he ought to have kept it to himself, if he ought to have beat a little more around the bush. 

“Hypothetically,” he added in Loras’ ear, voice half a whisper and half a breath.

“Hypothetically?” Loras’ voice was slow, only a slight breathlessness giving away how agonising he likely found the pause in their rhythm, how torturous he probably found it that Renly was still inside him but refusing to move.

“”Mmm,” Renly agreed, lips still at Loras’ ear. “ _Hypothetically_.”

Loras gulped audibly. “Yes…” he murmured after a few moments.

Renly had to laugh. He pushed himself back up on his elbows, smiling at the way the change of angle affected Loras’ expression. “Why the hesitation?” he asked, brushing a curl off Loras’ face fondly. “It is because you have doubts?”

Loras met his eyes. In the dim candlelight, they were like pools of liquid gold and Renly reckoned he’d quite enjoy drowning in them.

“No,” Loras whispered. “It’s not because I have doubts. It’s because we’re not talking hypothetically.”

Renly said nothing to that.

“Are we?”

“No,” Renly agreed with a small smile. “We’re not.”


	129. Chapter 129

It was only later that night, after the both of them were sated and the candles had been blown out that the subject was broached again. Loras lifted his head off Renly’s chest, his arm unwinding itself from around him as he shifted to press a kiss to the hollow at the base of Renly’s throat.

“Renly,” he murmured, his voice a low vibration against his neck. “Were you actually being serious earlier?”

Renly didn’t say anything. If he lay still, he could probably get away with pretending to be asleep. He was tired and he didn’t want to have to explain himself, not yet, when he hadn’t even fully thought the idea through himself. It was much easier to simply pretend to Loras that he had fallen asleep.

Loras’ fingers fluttered against his cheek. “I know you’re awake,” he hummed.

Renly said nothing. He had to cough a little though when Loras’ weight shifted suddenly onto his chest, his arms winding themselves round his neck.

“I know you’re awake,” Loras repeated, kissing his mouth this time.

“Am not,” Renly grumbled.

“Really?” The smirk on Loras’ face was audible. “You’re not awake?”

Groaning, Renly opened his eyes. He needn’t have bothered; it was just as dark with his eyes open as it had been with them closed. “Well I wasn’t until you sat on me,” he insisted.

Loras barely let him finish the sentence; he silenced him with his lips. “You were,” he whispered, his words half a kiss.

“Was not.”

“You were and don’t deny it.”

Renly closed his eyes again and slipped a hand into Loras’ curls. “Well how would you know that?” he mumbled, voice still hoarse from sleep. “Can you read my mind or something?”

“Because you’re on your back,” Loras said smugly. “And you never sleep on your back. You always start on your back but then you roll over.” He paused, pressing a fond kiss again to the base of Renly’s throat. “I should know; usually it’s me you roll over onto.”

“Is it?” Renly yawned.

“Yes.”

Smiling lazily, Renly wrapped his arms around Loras’ chest, holding him tight there for a few moments before flipping him over, pinning him against the scratchy bed sheets with his weight. “This should be perfect for you then,” he murmured in Loras’ ear, ignoring the rather disgruntled noise that had just escaped Loras’ throat.

Loras didn’t bother resisting after that though. He merely stretched out underneath Renly a little, getting comfortable. “Renly,” he said firmly. “You are evading my question.”

Renly sighed heavily. He supposed that if Loras wanted a discussion, he had little choice but to engage in it. He needed Loras on his side after all. “Was I being serious earlier?” he mused.

“See,” Loras laughed. “I told you that you were awake.”

Renly ignored him. “I was being serious,” he admitted, nuzzling Loras’ hair a little and pressing a kiss to his ear. “Think, Loras, how wonderful it would be. We’d never have a care in the world. I’d have the small council to look after my every whim, and feasts every day, balls and tourneys whenever I wanted them.” He smiled in the darkness. “And I’d be much better at it than Robert.”

“I’m not doubting that,” Loras said. “I am questioning the feasibility of this idea.”

“Ah well yes,” Renly admitted. Whilst he wanted to have been serious earlier, he too didn’t really know whether the idea was at all feasible or if his dreaming was all in vain. He’d need to pore over maps and figures, or to wait until Penrose arrived and then make _him_ pore over maps and figures. Much would need to be considered: King’s Landing’s defences for instance, and how many lords he’d be able to win to his cause, how many men he’d be able to secure, how he would feed them. And then there was those factors beyond his control. He had no idea yet how the Starks and the Tullys would act.

“I suppose a lot remains to be seen,” he wearily admitted to Loras, shifting atop him so that Loras would have to bear less of his weight. “If the North and the Riverlands bend the knee to Joffrey then it shan’t be possible. But if they don’t, they shall keep Joffrey busy enough to allow me to replace him I dare say.”

Loras wrapped his arms around Renly’s chest absent-mindedly. “Even if he’s engaged in the north though,” he argued, “you’ll still need to breach the walls of King’s Landing, something which hasn’t been done I might add since the Targaryens still rode dragons. You’ll need an army, you’ll need ships…” Loras paused, trailing off.

Renly said nothing.

“Which is why we’re in the Reach, isn’t it?” Loras’ voice was soft, hesitant. “You want an alliance, don’t you?”

Renly merely cupped the nape of Loras’ neck with his hands, slipping his fingers back into his hair. He did want an alliance; any man with an ounce of sense in his head would want an alliance. Mace Tyrell could raise more soldiers than most of the other kingdoms combined, and more importantly perhaps, he had the resources to feed them.

He stilled his tongue though. He didn’t wish to sound presumptuous, not even before Loras.

“Yes and no,” he admitted, raking a hand through Loras’ curls and fanning them out across the pillow. “If your father would merely promise me that the Reach will not fight against me, I may have enough men of my own to not need an alliance. Joffrey will have the Stark boy and Edmure Tully to the north. He shall have neither the forces nor the foresight to push back an invasion from the south.”

Loras was silent for a few moments, hands migrating to Renly’s waist. “Well you shall have to ask my father,” he said quietly. “Though I very much doubt he would rise for Joffrey against you. He might in word if pressed, but I imagine a lot of time would be spent amassing armies and very little spent marching them north after you. My grandmother always says that there is little to gain in fighting a war.”

“Highgarden fought a war against Robert,” Renly argued.

Loras shrugged underneath him. “Yes Highgarden’s forces sat outside Storm’s End for half a year, yes.”

Renly didn’t argue with that. “And an alliance?” he murmured, winding a strand of Loras’ hair around his finger in the darkness. “What do you think your father might make of such a proposition?”

Loras said nothing. “I’ve no idea, Renly.”

“No idea?” Renly wished he could see Loras’ expression. “He’s your father. You should have _some_ idea surely?”

Loras shrugged. “I haven’t been at home for more than a month at a time since I was ten, Renly. That was six years ago.” He lifted a hand to Renly’s hair. “Ask Margaery if you like when we get home.”

Renly shrugged, a little disappointed. He’d hoped to find Loras knowledgeable on how his father might act. “Perhaps I will,” he mused. A good understanding of where Highgarden stood would be needed regardless of what he planned to do.

 

* * *

 

 

It was noon when the Highgarden gates became visible. The sun was high in the sky and Renly had to laugh at the mood that had come over his men. Their pace had slowed to a lazy crawl and they were meandering leisurely down the road like the water in the Mander, slow and steady. The pace of life was slower in the Reach and already the promise of wine and good food had his men lounging in their saddles, enjoying the sun on their faces and the soft breeze at their backs.

Renly couldn’t blame them. He too found himself in a good mood. The day was a splendid one, the roses were in full bloom, and even though he'd seen the gardens at Highgarden many many times now, Renly still found his breath taken away by their beauty. There were roses as dark as spilt blood and roses with the delicate pink of a maiden's blush. There were beige and blousy roses and mysterious golden roses, tightly furled. Roses climbed the stone walls or rambled across arbours, and Renly found he wanted to stop and sniff each one of them. 

He had to make do with just admiring them from a distance though and they were only half a mile or so from Highgarden’s walls when Loras sat up a little taller in the saddle. Following his gaze, Renly saw two figures walking a hundred yards ahead of them in the gardens. It was a man and a woman, walking by the banks of the river, and whilst Renly could make out the large basket that the girl was holding, he couldn’t quite make out their faces.

Loras though apparently could and he rode a little ahead.

“Garlan!” he yelled and the two figures looked around before beginning to wander over.

Looking again, it was clearly Garlan and Leonette and Renly chastised himself for not recognising them earlier. Garlan was in the colours of his house and Leonette in a pale pink dress with matching ribbons in her hair, and like he had many times before, Renly had to think what a lovely man and wife they made.

They met halfway, and Garlan leant against the fence that separated the Highgarden grounds from the road. “Well look who it is,” he laughed, shaking his head at Loras. “You really could have said, Loras. The kitchens aren’t aware they’ll be feeding fifty tonight.”

Renly spurred his mare on to join him and Garlan did a double take. “Lord Renly,” he said quickly. I didn’t see you there.” His tone was suddenly sombre and it suited him ill. “I am so sorry for your loss. We were all much saddened when we heard.” He wrapped an arm around a nodding Leonette.

Renly forced a smile. “Don’t be,” he insisted. “My brother wouldn’t want any misery on his behalf. He’d want songs to be sung about him, tales told, and a thousand cups of wine lifted to him.”

Garlan smiled, still leaning against the fence. “In which case, I dare say you’ve come to the right place, my lord.” It was strawberries apparently that Leonette had been collecting in her basket and he took a handful now, before chucking a few absent-mindedly at Loras.

Loras rolled his eyes but ate the few he’d managed to catch all the same. “Is everyone home?” he asked.

“Actually no,” Garlan chuckled. “You’ve come at a poor time. Willas is in Hightower and Margaery gone with him. It’s another week until they’re due back.”

The disappointment on Loras’ face was tangible and Garlan boomed with laughter. He turned to Renly. “You’d think _all_ his siblings were in Oldtown wouldn’t you?” he said. “Well I’m sorry Highgarden is so empty, Lord Renly, but I dare say we shall receive you well enough.”

Renly smiled. “I should have sent a raven,” he said. “I’m afraid it slipped my mind.”

Garlan merely grinned though. “Don’t worry yourself, my lord. We’d expected at the very least that Loras would turn up with a lot of men at some point.” He raised an eyebrow. “We heard rumours that you left King’s Landing in quite some haste.”

There was a murmur of laughter amongst Renly’s men. ‘Quite some haste’ didn’t even begin to describe how they’d left. They’d left quicker than an arrow out of a bow. Looters and bandits had been known to leave the scenes of their crimes slower than they’d left King’s Landing, Renly reckoned.

“You could say that,” Renly admitted with a smile, leaning down to pat his mare. “Well what can I say? Apparently I’m not my nephew’s favourite uncle as I always assumed.”

Garlan’s eyes twinkled and his hand found its way again into his wife’s basket of strawberries. “Well I do hear the Imp has a marvellous sense of humour.” He glanced wickedly at Loras. “He’s said to frequent better company too.”

Loras scowled at that but Renly just laughed. He rather enjoyed seeing Loras teased.

“Well we assumed that you’d made for Storm’s End,” Garlan remarked, serious again as he walked to a gate in the fence and opened it, ushering Leonette through.

Renly just smiled, dismounting now to greet Garlan properly. “Ah well,” he sighed, handing his reins to Alyn. “Highgarden is always so much more pleasant. I’ve grown used to the sunshine in the capital too much to return home, it seems.”

Greetings took quite some time. Garlan embraced Loras first, ruffling his hair exuberantly, something which raised much laughter amongst Renly’s half of his men. He embraced Renly next, and then most of Loras’ retinue, for Loras had many Fossoways and Hightowers and Caswells amongst his men, and Garlan seemed to know them all well. Leonette too was kissed by most of the men there, and it was only after all that was concluded that they finally set back off for the castle.

Garlan and Leonette walked with them and they talked of mundane things until Renly fell back amongst his men to let Loras speak freely to his brother. It was only polite, he thought. Loras had been many months in the capital and he and his brother most likely had much to talk about. Renly didn’t really want to intrude.

He was only half listening to their conversation when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

“My lord,” Alyn tugged on his sleeve now. “My lord.”

Renly turned to him. He had the reins of both of their horses still in his hands and Renly took a pair, fearful that Alyn might trip over them. “What is it?” he asked

“I need to talk to you about something. Something important.”

Renly’s heart stopped. He feared he’d underestimated how thin the walls at last night’s inn had been. He wondered if Alyn had been listening to their conversation all night, if he knew that Renly was plotting to see Joffrey’s head on a spike.

“Well what?” he asked Alyn warily.

“I know I shouldn’t push the matter and I know it’s not the moment, not so soon after the king’s death, but…”

Renly raised an eyebrow. “Spit it out,” he laughed. “It’s not like you to get tongue tied.”

“Well, you said you’d, well…” He dropped his voice. “…find me one of Ser Loras’ cousins, my lord. And now that we were in Highgarden I was hoping….” He glanced nervously at Loras up ahead, talking still with his brother.

Renly had to laugh. “Oh that. Thank the gods. I’d forgotten all about that.”

He hadn’t been able to hide his relief and, Alyn looked a little suspicious. “What did you think I was going to ask you about?” he asked.

Renly just smiled widely and patted him on the shoulder. “That’s for me to know and you not to find out,” he said.

Alyn looked a lot like he wanted to press the matter but he bowed his head. Clearly he had other things on his mind. “So my lord,” he prompted. ”One of Ser Loras’ cousins?”

“Oh yes.” Renly grinned. “Well when we go to dinner, I shall get Loras to point them out to you. You can choose your favourite and I shall do my best.” He tried to remember their faces and yet he came up blank. All he could picture was a mass of curly brown hair and different coloured ribbons.

Alyn seemed placated though and it was with a bounce in his step that he followed Renly up to the castle.

 

* * *

 

 

Regardless of the fact that they hadn’t been expected, dinner was given for every single man that he and Loras had brought with them. The cooks must have been in quite a panic, Renly imagined, but he couldn’t find it in him to worry too much. It had been too merry an affair for that, once they’d been able to move on from the miserable topic of Robert’s death, and Renly had managed to wholly enjoy himself. There had been wine, and ale, and so much good food that the servants hadn’t been able to get it all on the table.

Now though, Renly couldn’t help but feel a little sullen. The dancing had begun and he longed to join in; there were more than enough women begging for a partner after all. He was obliged to keep up appearances though and dancing was certainly out of the question whilst still in mourning for his brother. It was Garlan who had lent him the black silks that he was wearing tonight, and yet despite the fact that they were very fine garments indeed, Renly found that they hung heavy on his shoulders. He was itching to stand up and take a partner and yet every time he made to rise, the black fabric seemed to tighten around his throat, reminding him that it was his duty tonight to merely sit and watch, to clasp his hands solemnly in his lap and be the very image of a man grieving for his brother.

It didn’t help either that Loras was ignoring him. Not on purpose, that was for sure, but because it had been several months now since he’d seen his family. He was dancing with one of his cousins now, who presumably, if the joy on his face was anything to go by, was assuring him that Margaery would soon be home. The delight on his face was plain to see, and quite honestly, it irked Renly. He knew it was irrational, and he knew it was unfair, but he couldn’t help it.

He was beyond pleased when Alyn approached him and he patted the chair next to him with a little too much enthusiasm for a man in mourning.

“My lord?” Alyn said expectantly as he sat down. “You said that at dinner we’d…”

Renly’s face broke into a most inappropriate grin. “Oh yes,” he said. This, at least, would be a good excuse for him to monopolise Loras for a while, and as soon as the current dance had finished, he made to call him over.

“Ser Loras,” he said. “May I borrow you a moment?”

“If you like.” Loras already looked suspicious but he approached nevertheless.

“Could you kindly point out your cousins for me and Alyn?”

Loras frowned, folding his arms across his chest. “Well there’s Aelinor over there in the green dress. She’s talking to Alla and Alyce. Casella. Desmera is on the left, with Dalla and Dancy. And then there’s Elinor in yellow there, Leyla in orange. Mina has the gold ribbons and Shella has pink. Myrielle is that one who’s with Ser Narbert now and Falena is the one that I just danced with.” He paused, looking around the room. “I think the rest have probably gone to Hightower with Margaery and Willas.”

Alyn gulped. “The rest Ser?”

Loras shrugged. “My mother was one of eight children.” He frowned again. “Why do you ask about my cousins though? What are you two plotting here?”

Renly merely grinned and placed a placating hand on Loras’ arm. “Alyn here would like to be introduced to a few of them, that’s all.”

Loras’ frown deepened. “Well which ones?” he asked impatiently.

Renly shrugged. “Well which one do you think looks most like Margaery?” he asked, chuckling when he saw Alyn turn beetroot beside him.

Loras glanced about the room, looking for his cousins again. “But none of them look like Margaery,” he said. “Not in the slightest.”

Renly looked again. He didn’t know what group of girls Loras was looking at. At least half of them looked like Margaery to him. They were all pretty, petite and soft-looking. He didn’t argue though; he merely nodded along. He didn’t particularly wish to incur Loras’ wrath.

Loras’ raised an eyebrow at his silence and turned now to Alyn, still sat at Renly’s side. “Well why do you want to be introduced to my cousins anyway?” he asked him, suspicious.

Renly answered for him, waving a hand vaguely. “You know how it is, he thinks they’re pretty.”

Loras’ eyebrow arched further. “He thinks they’re _pretty_?” He leant across the table to better study their faces.

“Well yes,” Renly laughed, helping himself to a piece of fruit from a plate on the table. “Almost as pretty as you perhaps.”

Loras rolled his eyes. “Be quiet,” he hissed. “Or I shan’t ever invite you into my home again. I’ll make you sleep in the stables with the horses.”

“But I don’t need your invitation,” Renly chuckled. “I can go where I please. I’m the king’s brother.”

Loras’ brow furrowed. “No you’re not,” he corrected softly.

“Oh gods,” Renly sighed. “I’m not am I?” That, he thought was going to take some getting used to. He’d been so accustomed to being brother to the king. It had been as much a part of his title as Lord of Storm’s End had been. Uncle to the king didn’t have so much of a ring to it and that was a sad thought, Renly found. Gone were the days now when he was- as far as everyone else was aware at least, one of the closest men to the king.

When he looked back up, Loras had turned back to Alyn. “Spill, Estermont,” he was demanding. “Why are you asking about my cousins?” He’d folded his arms now and he looked most displeased.

Alyn floundered under his gaze like a fish out of water. “Well… um…” His face had gone bright red and he was fidgeting anxiously in his seat.

Renly rolled his eyes. He thought he’d take it from here. He after all knew how to handle Loras. “I suggested perhaps that one of them might make a good match for him,” he confessed, smiling his most winning smile at him.

And to his credit, Loras merely raised an eyebrow, amused. “Is your bed cold at night then, Estermont?” he smirked. “Can’t find yourself a girl?”

Alyn flushed bright red and mumbled something to the table that sounded a little like “as if you can talk”.

Loras rolled his eyes at that and wheeled on Renly now. “So let me get this straight, Renly. _You_ promised Alyn here that he could have one of my cousins? You who hasn’t even _met_ most of my cousins save for a few passing introductions.”

“Well, that’s not quite how _I’d_ put it,” Renly chuckled. He, unlike Alyn, was unafraid of the boy opposite them.

Loras leant lazily against the table. “Is it not?” he asked mildly. “Well how would you put it then?”

Renly grinned at him. “Well, I suppose I suggested to Alyn here that if he wanted a lady of grace and refinement, he might do well to consider your beautiful cousins over there.”

Loras snorted at that and Alyn looked mildly terrified.

“So?” Renly asked. “Do you think he’d be able to have one?”

Loras shrugged, mulling that over for a few moments. “Well if he likes,” he said.

Alyn looked a little startled. “Really?” he asked. He seemed a little bemused to see Loras being so reasonable. That surprised Renly a little, for when all was said and done, he didn’t think Loras _that_ disagreeable. He supposed though that Alyn mostly saw Loras when he’d had the misfortune to disturb the two of them in bed and in the training yard. Neither situation was conducive to Loras being at all reasonable.

For the moment though, Loras was behaving. Shrugging again, he looked Alyn up and down. “You’re heir to Greenstone,” he said simply. “Many of my cousins could do a lot worse. I’ve so many that half of them will probably marry hedge knights.”

Alyn looked relieved to hear that. His face changed as quickly as the wind though when he saw Loras raise an eyebrow.

“But,” he warned, eyes narrowing slightly as he leant further across the table. “If you bed one and don’t wed her, I shall cut off your cock while you sleep.” He paused, contemplative. “Except Aelinor there. She’s long ruined. You can bed her as much as you like.”

Renly laughed at that and Alyn managed a half chuckle. He was obviously too frightened of Loras to openly laugh at his cousin’s disgrace. Renly had to smile though to see his squire looking about the room again. He was evidently trying to remember which one Aelinor was and assess whether he fancied taking her to bed at all.

“Well apart from Aelinor and her open legs, which one would you recommend?” Renly asked Loras. Somehow though, he wasn’t sure if Loras was the right person to ask. Loras was a great judge of female beauty but Renly imagined he’d be a rather poor judge of everything else. He’d never had cause to think about what qualities might make a good wife, and likely he never would.

Indeed, Loras shrugged, a little bemused. “Well what are you after?” he asked Alyn. He looked around the room again, eyes falling on a girl with very red hair. “Desmera could be a good choice. She’s Paxter Redywne’s only daughter and she comes with a rather large fleet.”

Renly grinned at him, unable to keep the amusement out of his eyes. “Maybe I should have her then,” he suggested slyly. “Take a tour of Blackwater Bay on one of her father’s ships.”

Loras rolled his eyes at that and Alyn merely looked a little curious. He was apparently more curious about the girl though than Renly’s cryptic comments. “Well what’s she like?” he asked Loras.

Loras shrugged. “She’s very nice, but it depends how you feel about freckles.” He made a face. “You’d have Hobber and Slobber as good brothers too. That’s always something to bear in mind, and not something to take lightly.”

“Fair point,” Renly conceded. He certainly knew that he wouldn’t want the Redwyne twins for good-brothers. He’d want someone he got on with and someone whose company he preferably didn’t find most irritating. “Perhaps a bad choice then. Well which is your favourite cousin, Loras?”

Loras paused. “Well Falena is my favourite, the one I was just dancing with. She’s one of Margaery’s dearest companions and I’ve always got on best with her.”

“And why’s that?” Renly asked.

Loras shrugged, contemplative. “Because she and I are very alike, I suppose. We have much in common.”

“Perhaps not that one then,” Renly murmured in Alyn’s ear, smiling innocently at Loras all the while.

“I heard that.” Loras’ voice was sharp but there was fondness there too and Renly merely smiled lazily at him. For a long moment they shared a look across the table and Renly found himself beginning to wonder how much longer he would be required to stay at dinner before he could tug on Loras’ sleeve and take him upstairs.

He was brought to his senses by Alyn giving a rather nervous cough. “And your sister, Ser Loras? Might she… um… be seeking someone?”

This would certainly be interesting and Renly perked up a little in his chair, watching Loras’ face to see how he would take this. He had no doubt in his mind that Loras would think Alyn a poor suitor for his sister, or indeed, that he would think _any_ man a poor suitor for his sister.

Renly was not wrong and Loras’ eyebrow arched into a perfect bridge at Alyn’s words. “My sister is too young to marry,” he said bluntly, with just a hint of disdain.

“No she’s not,” Renly laughed. “She’s five and ten, not eight.”

Loras ignored him. “Besides,” he said. “Even if she were of a marriageable age, my sister has no intention of wedding for many years.” He leant over the table to pat Alyn rather condescendingly on the shoulder. “Though, by my leave, please feel free to try and court her. I shall very much enjoy looking on.”

With that he turned away from them, leaving Renly very amused and Alyn looking more than a little disappointed.


	130. Chapter 130

In the end, it was a week and a half before Willas and Margaery even made it out of Brightwater Keep, that ancient stronghold of the Florents which marked halfway between Oldtown and Highgarden. It was Willas’ leg which was delaying them, or so Margaery informed her father in a raven, and Renly had to feel sorry for both of them. It was well known that the Florents were not overly fond of the Tyrells, and Renly had little doubt that trespassing on their hospitality for days on end must have been rather unpleasant for them.

Loras rode out to meet them shortly afterwards, and Renly left him to it. It felt strange being in Highgarden without him, but he found ways aplenty to pass his time. He spent hours with the Tyrells’ seamstresses, choosing cuts of soft wool and reams of rainbow silk to replace those clothes he’d abandoned in King’s Landing. He drank wine with his men on the sun-bathed terraces, or else took solitary walks through the shady courtyards and sat awhile by the fountains.

He passed half a week in such pursuits until one lazy morning, Alyn popped his head round the door whilst Renly was bathing.

“Yes?” Preferring the view out of the window over the nearby fields to the stone wall, Renly was facing away from the door and he had to crane round to see him.

“Someone to see you, my lord.” He bobbed his head before disappearing, leaving the door open.

Renly laughed, turning back to his bath. He presumed it was Loras. Otherwise Alyn would have turned him or her away.

A few moments later, Renly felt hands on his shoulders, strong calloused hands that were very familiar. The hands were quickly followed by a languorous kiss to the top of his head.

“Good morning.” Loras laughed against his hair.

Renly leant back against the edge of the tub. “Well you’re in a good mood today,” he commented. “Has your absence from me been that refreshing?”

“Mmm.” It was half an agreement and half a hum, Loras’ lips warm as he moved lower, peppering kisses against the nape of his neck. The kisses were soon joined by a warm hand, which swept Renly’s hair to the side, fingers combing through the wet strands rather affectionately.

Renly sighed, closing his eyes and enjoying the soft press of kisses against his neck. “I like that,” he murmured.

He was startled by a sudden lick to the back of his ear.

“Do you?” Loras laughed. He licked Renly’s ear again, nibbling the shell softly.

It wasn’t overly pleasant but Renly had to chuckle along with him. “Will you stop that?” he groaned, unable to keep the amusement out of his voice in the slightest.

Loras merely bit down on the junction between his neck and shoulder rather gently. It was unusually playful for him and Renly grinned. Seeing his brother and sister had obviously been a great pleasure for him. Or else Loras had found the three or four days they’d been parted far too long.

“Has your hand been a poor substitute for me then?” Renly smiled.

“Passable.”

Renly rolled his eyes. “You’re very talkative today,” he remarked dryly, aiming a splash behind him. “Well will you at least come round to face me then? I think I’ve forgotten what you look like.”

“If you like.” There was then a pause and the soft rustle of fabric. When he came into Renly’s peripheral vision, Renly was a little surprised to see that he was naked, his long lithe body bathed in the morning sunlight that was filtering in through the windows. He eyed Renly’s bathtub a little greedily.

“You’re not thinking of coming in with me are you?” Renly asked, raising an eyebrow. Usually, he would welcome the idea, but this was far too small a tub for that. There was barely room for him to stretch his legs out as it was.

Loras just smiled at him, a twinkle in his eye.

“Because you know this is a tub only big enough for one man don’t you?”

Loras ignored him and swung one leg over the side of the tub.

“And it’s been filled far too full-”

It was too late. The water sloshed over the sides as Loras lowered himself in, drenching the beautiful myrish carpets that lined the floor.

“Now look what you’ve done,” Renly told him, rearranging his legs so that there was physically room for him.. He was trying to sound angry and yet it came out half a laugh.

Loras shrugged, grinning at him. “The carpets will dry,” he said. He reached through the water and wrapped a firm hand around Renly’s cock. He seemed surprised to find it still soft and his perfect lips pursed in dissatisfaction. “I thought you were enjoying my attentions earlier?” he purred.

“I was,” Renly protested, “It just takes a little more than you _biting_ me.” Exhaling heavily, he placed his hand over Loras’ and began moving it.

Loras smirked at that, before prying Renly’s hand off. “I’m not a child,” he laughed softly. “I know how to pleasure you without your guidance.” He demonstrated that in one fluid motion, fingers firm around the shaft of Renly’s cock and the pad of his thumb sweeping over the head.

Renly groaned and reached out through the water to repay the favour. Unlike his, Loras’ cock was already ready and waiting for his touch, pressed heavily against his stomach. They quickly found a rhythm together, and soon the water was moving between them in waves, forced one way and then the other before overflowing over the side of the tub. This time, with Loras’ strong hand enveloping his cock, Renly couldn’t find it in him to care in the slightest about the fine Myrish carpets.

“Gods,” Renly groaned. The world had gone hazy around him. He was only aware of two things: Loras’ warm, wet hand around him and the now cooling water splashing against his chest. He lost himself willingly in those sensations, in the tight press of Loras’ fingers and his quickening pace. It was as if Loras was challenging himself to match the pace of Renly’s breathing and he kept up even when Renly found his breaths coming in harsh ragged pants.

“ _Stop_ ,” he gasped out as he felt the familiar knotting in his stomach. “I want more than just this.”

Loras duly stopped at his command, fingers meandering through the little water left to brush against the trail of hair on Renly’s stomach. “You know, Renly,” he murmured, flicking water at him with his spare hand. “Next time we do this, perhaps you could be a little more… _obliging_.”

He took Renly’s hand in his and waved it at him. It was only then that Renly realised he’d long given up pleasuring Loras. He wondered how long his hand had laid limp in the water like that. He felt a twinge of guilt and then pushed it aside.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he breathed. He leant forward and took hold of Loras’ hips, pulling him towards him with a large splash until Loras was knelt over him, the tub just wide enough for his knees. His teeth then caught Renly’s lower lip as he ground down into Renly’s lap, rolling his hips almost obscenely. His arse was slippery and wet when Renly grasped it and he had to dig his fingers roughly into the flesh to get a grip on him.

“Can I?” he murmured, a finger brushing fleetingly across Loras’ entrance before he slipped once more out of his grip.

“Perhaps I might like to take you,” Loras groaned, teeth grazing Renly’s jaw.

“Perhaps,” Renly agreed hoarsely. “But some other time.” He grasped Loras’ slippery shoulders and tried to turn him round. “Now bend for me. I need you over the side of the tub. It won’t work under the water.”

Loras’ hands had found Renly’s shoulders too though and he was attempting the very same, his fingers digging into him as he tried to manoeuver Renly into position. It was a slippery, wet embrace and soon both of them were on their knees, pushing and pulling at the other, hands sliding across wet thighs and wet chests.

Renly didn’t know which one of them made the mistake of leaning too far out and he barely had time to notice the tub tipping before he collided with the drenched myrish carpets with an almighty smack, winded and breathless, his legs still tangled with Loras’.

His cock was still aching to be touched and yet Renly couldn’t help but laugh. He felt a little like a fish out of water and he scrambled to get his legs out of the upturned tub. The laughter died in his throat though as soon as he sat up, and concerned, he cocked his head to the side.

Loras was lying flat on his back next to him, and whilst he was laughing too, he’d evidently fallen the other way and smacked his head against the rim of the upturned tub. He had a rather large gash above his left eye, which was bleeding. He didn’t seem to have noticed it though.

“Gods Loras,” Renly whispered, bending over him. “You’re bleeding.”

Loras merely stared up at him, looking a little dazed. “Am I? he murmured. He touched a hand to his forehead tentatively and seemed surprised to find his fingertips bloody. “Oh.”

“Let’s get you off the floor,” Renly sighed. His erection forgotten, he took Loras’ hands in his and guided him into a sitting position. Loras evidently resented being helped though and he got to his feet of his own accord, making for the bed with rather unsteady steps.

“You all right?” Renly asked him, watching him rather warily.

“Just a little dizzy.” Loras sat down gingerly on the edge of Renly’s bed.

“All right, well you just sit there then.” Quickly, Renly grabbed his nightshirt from where Alyn had folded it that morning and chucked it to Loras. “Here,” he said, “stem the bleeding with that.”

Loras duly held it to his forehead as Renly then patted him dry with a towel. His hair had escaped most of the water and without it dripping down his neck, drying him was a rather easy job.

Gently, Renly then pried the cloth from Loras’ forehead. It had stopped bleeding but it was a decent sized cut and not a particularly clean one. Unlike a sword, the edge of the bathtub was blunt. It looked painful, red and raw, and Renly inspected it carefully, contemplating whether it was worth fetching a maester.

Loras seemed to read his mind. “I don’t need a maester,” he said.

“Mmm.” Renly didn’t argue either way. He merely crossed the room and picked up Loras’ clothes from where he’d discarded them. They were only a little damp and Renly passed them to him, pleased when he saw that Loras wasn’t too dizzy to get himself dressed.

Renly got himself dressed too before leaving to seek a second opinion.

 

* * *

 

  
Alyn was quite bemused when Renly fetched him and he peered down at Loras rather cautiously, as if fearful he might bite. “How did you do that, Ser Loras?” he asked.

“He tripped,” Renly offered before Loras could even open his mouth, “and managed to knock my lovely bath tub over.” He smiled at Alyn. “See, even Ser Loras here has it in him to be clumsy _sometimes_.”

Loras grimaced. He evidently didn’t like being coloured in such a light but he didn’t dare argue.

“It looks quite deep,” Alyn murmured. “I think we should fetch a maester, my lord,”

“I’m fine,” Loras muttered. “It’s probably already scabbing over.”

Alyn shrugged. “My mother always told me that a wound’s more likely to scar if the maester doesn’t stitch it up, Ser.”

That was clever of him, Renly thought, to appeal to Loras’ vanity rather than his sense. He had to stifle a chuckle as he watched the effect Alyn’s words had had on Loras. He was biting his lip, his eyes were narrowed, and his brow was furrowed. He was most displeased.

“Fine,” he snapped. “Go and fetch me a maester then.”

Grinning, Renly waved Alyn through the door, sitting down beside Loras when he was gone. “Good boy,” he laughed, squeezing Loras’ hand. “I wouldn’t want your pretty face ruined.”

Loras merely rolled his eyes and returned to pressing Renly's nightshirt against his forehead. 

The maester wasn’t long in coming and Loras didn’t complain as he worked and Alyn, who had stayed, looked rather impressed at his composure.

Renly for his part watched rather curiously. The maester was cleaning the gash with vinegar of all things, and whilst it must have stung, Loras didn’t even flinch. The edges of the wound were then pinched and pulled together, to be bound in place with a needle and thread. It was very intricate work, and Renly found it quite fascinating. He found some satisfaction in how tiny and neat the maester’s stitches were, as if he were a seamstress rather than a maester of the citadel.

“There’s to be a feast in a few hours,” Loras informed him as the maester bent over him still. “To celebrate Willas and Margaery’s return.”

Renly grinned. He went to his wardrobe and selected a cheery red garment that he’d had made a few days ago, mainly because he’d been showed the fabric and he’d been so enamoured by it. It was a colour that he didn’t wear often, mainly because it was associated with the Lannisters, but with no Lannisters for a hundred leagues or so, he imagined that it was appropriate enough.

“Surely you’re not going to wear that?” Loras remarked dryly though as Renly laid it out. “It’s a little _colourful_ for a man in mourning.” His tone was icy and Renly wondered whether the maester’s needle hurt more than Loras was letting on.

Renly groaned. “Robert’s been dead for weeks now,” he protested. “Sad as I am, I feel like I can wear a little more colour.”

“Perhaps,” Loras agreed. “But perhaps something more… well _muted_?”

Renly rolled his eyes. “Fine,” he hissed, choosing a deep purple doublet instead. “But I’m dancing tonight and you shan’t persuade me otherwise. I mean to have a good time.”

Loras shrugged.

 

* * *

 

 

Renly heeded his own words; he _did_ have a good time. He drank and he danced, and if anyone thought he ought to have been more sombre, nobody said a word, not even Loras who was sitting surprisingly quietly next to his sister.

From time to time, in between dances and cups of wine, Renly worried about him. He’d pushed his hair over his forehead to hide his wound but he wasn’t himself at all and Renly had to wonder whether he was in more pain than he was letting on. He was almost completely silent, and he didn’t even catch Renly’s eye when Alyn was hovering very conspicuously around Loras’ cousins, evidently eyeing several of them up.

Margaery, however, made up for how subdued her brother was. She spoke to everyone, lord and lowly serving girl alike, and she was radiant in a gown of green and blue silks. Her dress swirled around her in a haze of turquoise like the sea and her hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall.

It was late in the evening when she approached Renly, and she smiled up at him warmly, taking his arm in her own. “Walk with me a while,” she said, leading him out through the doors into the warm summer’s air. Many of the guests had already migrated out here already and fiddlers were playing for them under the stars. Margaery’s mother and father were amongst them, and Margaery steered them away from them.

“My father will want to hear about Hightower again,” she laughed softly. “It’s the first time I’ve spent more than a few days out of his sight and it’s like he wants a list of everything I saw and everything I did.”

Renly just smiled down at her. “I imagine Loras is the same, no?”

She laughed. “He’s not _as_ bad,” she said. “He has more trust in me than my father does.” She looked suspiciously up at Renly. “And speaking of Loras, how did he get that ugly cut on his forehead? He told our end of the table that he was caught off guard by a morning star of all things.”

Renly laughed fondly. “That’s what he told you is it?” He obviously hadn’t been wrong to conclude that Loras had thought very little of the idea that he’d tripped and knocked over a bathtub. It wasn’t very fitting for a warrior.

“Yes,” Margaery said slowly. “And it’s not very believable. If he’d been hit by a morning star without a helm, he’d have lost half his face.”

Renly shrugged coyly. “Well I’m afraid I wasn’t in the courtyard today, so I can shed very little light on the matter.”

Margaery sighed and led him underneath a large tree in whose branches a hundred glowing lanterns had been place. “I’ve been so rude, Lord Renly,” she said suddenly. “Here I am talking about _my_ brother, and I haven’t even offered you my sympathies.” She looked up at him earnestly, her face silvery in the soft glow of the lanterns. “I was so sorry to hear.”

“Don’t be,” Renly told her. He’d passed the whole evening without a mention of Robert and he’d have preferred to keep it that way.

“And you never introduced us in the end,” she said quietly, her voice a melancholy whisper. “A pity.”

Renly smiled and touched a hand to her hair almost instinctively, as if she had been Loras. He’d almost forgotten his intentions to have Robert wed Margaery. “He’d have liked you,” he murmured. “And the realm would have done too.”

Margaery met his eye and dropped her voice. “I was thinking… ” she whispered.

“Yes?”

“Perhaps you could introduce me to Joffrey instead?”

Renly grimaced. He could see her reasoning. Joffrey had most likely already been crowned by now and it was very likely that he would set the Stark girl aside. The idea made him baulk though, and not only because such a match would be very inconvenient for him.

“Over my dead body,” he told her.

She raised an eyebrow and looked most displeased. “Why not?”

Renly raised an eyebrow back at her. For once, Margaery’s tender five and ten years betrayed her. She’d never left the Reach and she likely knew little of the new king.

“Because Loras would stab me through the eye with a sharp stick before he let me introduce you to Joffrey,” Renly told her plainly. He sighed, feeling a little sorry for her. He could understand her ambition better than most and he took her hands in his. “And because truthfully, Margaery, I would do you little good. Cersei would reject the match purely on the basis of it being me who had suggested it.”

She pursed her lips and dropped his hands. She wasn’t happy and Renly thought it best he change the subject.

“I wanted to ask you something,” he laughed.

“Yes my lord.”

Renly rolled his eyes. He could tell she was unimpressed by the sudden return of formalities. “ _My lady_ ,” he jibed softly. “Speaking of our new king, does your father intend to heed the summons to King’s Landing?”

“Yes,” she said. The sweetness was back and she plucked a lantern idly from the tree’s lower branches, warming her hands on it even though they couldn’t have been cold. “Why?”

Renly shrugged. “Curiosity,” he smiled nonchalantly, leaning his back against the trunk of the tree. “Will he leave for the capital soon?” He hoped to all the gods, old and new, that it would not be so. He needed time, time to think and to lay plans.

He evidently didn’t manage to keep his voice steady though for Margaery cocked her head to the side. “No,” she said slowly. “Don’t fret. The summons included Willas, and Willas is not well enough to make such a long journey again until he’s rested.

Renly nodded. “Good,” he agreed.

“Why?” she murmured, leaning in slightly closer. “What have you got up your sleeve?”

It was clear that she desperately wanted to know and Renly laughed. “Nothing,” he told her stubbornly.

“But you do,” she protested. “I can see it written all over your face.” She raised the lantern, as if to demonstrate this.

Renly grinned, blinking in the bright light of the lantern. He pulled his sleeve away from his wrist and held it out to her. “As you can see, I’ve nothing up my sleeve except my arm.”

She laughed along with him and took his other hand in her dainty little hands. “What about the other sleeve?” she almost purred, making a show of peering down it. Across the garden, Renly could see her father watching the two of them greedily. It was clever, Renly thought, how Margaery used him to her advantage. By being a terrible tease with him, she succeeded in making every other man in the room very jealous, but without risking gaining an unwanted admirer with whom she could sully her reputation.

She dropped Renly’s arm when she was seemingly satisfied. “I’m still not convinced,” she told him loftily though.

Renly just smiled at her and extended his hand to lead her back inside for a dance.

 

* * *

 

He danced three dances with Margaery and when he returned to the table, he was surprised to hear raised voices from the men sat there. Most were well into their cups and their faces were ruddy and agitated. Loras was amongst them, and he too looked quite incensed.

“It’ll be war,” Tarly was roaring as Renly sat down. “You mark my words. I can feel it in my very bones.”

“-Only this morning I heard the young wolf is on the move.”

“-he’s amassed an enormous host at Moat Cailin, I heard.”

“No no,” someone else interjected. “It’ll never come to war.”

Loras looked displeased at that. “Well why not?” he said sharply. “You heard Lord Mathis. The young Wolf is on the move. It has to be war.”

Renly smiled quietly to himself. He knew how much Loras desired to go to war. He’d have liked to agree with him, to assure him that there would most likely be a chance to prove himself in battle, but he wasn’t sure if he actually did agree. War seemed uncertain to say the least.

It was Paxter Redwyne who gently corrected Loras though. “No boy,” he said, “the crown has too many hostages for war to be certain. Let us not forget. Not only is Lord Eddard in the black cells, but two of the Stark _girls_ still remain in the capital. The new king would hand all three of them over before risking open war if he knows what’s good for him.”

Renly had to laugh at that. “Yes my good Lord Redwyne,” he agreed. “Yet I fear that the new king does _not_ know what’s good for him.”

“Aye,” Lord Paxter murmured. “I hardly dare repeat it but my sons wrote just the other day to tell me that our new king’s a most disagreeable lad.”

Renly snorted. “Disagreeable?” he demanded. “My brother told me once of him cutting the unborn kittens out of a pregnant cat. Even he couldn’t stand the sight of the boy, and he was his own flesh and blood.”

There was a low grumble and Mace Tyrell thumped his fist against the table. “Terrible,” he said. “Absolutely terrible.”

Renly nodded. He was going to say more but he trailed off when he saw Loras rising from the table. He’d evidently lost interest in the discussion now that the inevitability of war had been dismissed and Renly knew from the expression on his face that he was calling it a night. Renly gave him a tiny little nod- a promise that he’d join him as soon as was acceptable.

 

* * *

 

 

All the candles save one had already been snuffed out when Renly entered Loras’ chambers. It had barely been a quarter of an hour and yet Loras was already abed, the deep green drapes pulled almost closed around him.

“Tired?” Renly asked gently as he shut the door behind him.

“I have such a headache,” Loras groaned.

Renly laughed softly. “Well it’s no surprise,” he said, “considering how hard that morning star must have hit you. Margaery was telling me all about it, you know, how it caught you across the face.”

Loras merely grumbled, closing his eyes. “Well it was your bloody fault,” he insisted. “You’re the only one heavy enough to tip the damn thing. So you’ll keep your mouth quiet when I refuse to admit I hit my head on a bath.”

“Yes, yes,” Renly soothed, amused. He sat down on the edge of the bed and tucked the front locks of Loras’ hair behind his ear. Bruising had started to come up but the cut itself looked much better. It had scabbed over nicely.

“I didn’t mean you to have to join me,” Loras murmured as Renly stroked his hair. “You were busy inciting unrest, weren’t you?”

Renly chuckled, admiring his phrasing. “Yes, but there shall be plenty more time for inciting unrest.”

Loras yawned and Renly shifted closer so that Loras could rest his head against his chest. He knew that Loras thought he’d have liked to stay longer, that he’d have liked to tell the men more incriminating stories about Joffrey, but Renly actually thought it for the best that he’d only hinted at the new king’s character. He’d planted the seed of doubt in their minds, a seed that would germinate now on its own, and if Renly knew anything about men, it was that they liked ideas best if they thought that they’d come up with them themselves.


	131. Chapter 131

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the insanely huge delay between chapters!

It didn’t take long for the bruise that had blossomed across Loras' forehead to fade and it was only a few days before he was back in the training yard as usual. Several days that week he invited Renly to join him but so far Renly declined. As much as he would enjoy humouring Loras with his presence, he very much preferred to lounge in the shady courtyards of Highgarden in his silks than to sweat inside a suit of armour.

Whereas usually Renly sat with his guard and those knights in his retinue, today he had been joined by Loras' father and several of his bannermen. Renly found he was rather enjoying the company. The conversation didn't flow as freely with Mace and his bannermen as it did with his guard but it was certainly a good opportunity to gauge where the Lord of Highgarden's opinions lay in regards to what was happening in the capital and Renly seized that opportunity with both hands, steering the talk as much as possible towards Joffrey and the great host of soldiers that Tywin Lannister was amassing on the Riverlands border. Despite his efforts, however, conversation took a swift turn towards the mundane with the arrival of Lady Olenna and her brood of young women. Talk of war was apparently not appropriate for such delicate ears- especially those of Margaery herself.

Eventually, when pleasantries were exhausted, the conversation lulled. Mace Tyrell, high lord as he was, seemed to be dozing in his chair, Lord Paxter similarly slumped on his left-hand side. Even Renly's guard had succumbed to the heat and many of them were sat quietly, watching the young ladies at their sewing. It was perhaps Lord Tarly alone who was completely alert. He was sat up stiffly in his chair like a marble statue and Renly had to wonder whether the man ever slept or if he just lay in bed awake with his eyes fixed on the ceiling. He was certainly a ruthless, unyielding sort of man and watching him, Renly’s thoughts drifted to that fat boy of his who had allegedly been sent up north to join the Night's Watch. He wondered vaguely how the boy was faring and was tempted to ask when his attention was caught instead by Alyn who had appeared at his elbow with a plate of fruit. Idly he took a bunch of grapes before gesturing for Alyn to sit down nest to him. It was too hot to be standing after all and there were plenty of serving girls to pass the plate around instead of his highborn squire.

Indeed, Alyn seemed relieved to take a seat and stretched his too-long legs out wearily. Renly then watched as Alyn’s gaze flick to one of the ladies sat around Margaery. It was Aelinor that he was looking at- that cousin of Loras and Margaery’s who Loras had said was long ruined. Renly couldn’t help but be a little amused to see the pair share a glance; several times over the past week his guards had allegedly seen her stealing silently out of Alyn’s bedchamber, clothes all rumpled. Renly was pleased for him. She was a pretty enough girl after all, with curly hair like most of her family.

Renly sighed though as he saw Alyn’s gaze shift. It was Margaery that his squire was watching now and Renly knew what a hopeless case that was. It wouldn't be the most unlikely match that had ever taken place but Renly imagined that anyone who had ever spent more than a few minutes in Margaery's company would know that such a lady would never be content as mistress of Greenstone. Biting back a laugh, he tried to imagine Margaery on Estermont, far from the southron courts and her curls whipped into a tangle by the constant wind and rain that came off the Narrow Sea. She'd be like a fish out of water, he suspected.

Renly was still lost in his imaginings when his attention was caught by a clattering of metal as one of the wrought-iron gates was opened on the edge of the courtyard. As Mace Tyrell snorted awake next to him, Renly turned his head to see one of the Highgarden guards approaching, his green cloak barely fluttering in the still air.

“My lords,” he said with a bow. “Ser Guyard of House Morrigen.” He stood back to reveal another young man, whose cloak of green put his own to shame.

Mace faltered for a brief few seconds at the guard's announcement, as if he were trying to remember who House Morrigen was. Renly briefly contemplated taking offence and then laughed. It was after all a rather small house, quite beneath the Lord of Highgarden's notice. Plastering a smile onto his face, he got to his feet to put Lord Mace out of his misery.  
/  
“One of mine,” he told Mace apologetically, taking a few steps forward before turning to Guyard himself. “Do you bring Ser Cortnay with you?”

“I left him at Storm’s End preparing the garrison,” Guyard said proudly, projecting his voice so that even the girls sat furthest away from him might hear him. “I myself had to ride forth with all haste. I bring tidings of the utmost importance.” He puffed out his chest importantly before sweeping into a rather unnecessary bow. His words meanwhile lingered tantalizingly in the air.

“Well spit it out then, boy,” Tarly barked, clearly growing impatient.

Ser Guyard inclined his head slightly. "Well my good lords," he said gravely. “Lord Stark is dead.”

 

* * *

 

 

A few moments passed in silence and Renly blinked. Glancing around, he saw that the men’s faces had hardened in surprise while the girls merely looked a little bewildered. Renly patted Guyard's arm. "Lord Stark is dead?" he repeated. "Are you sure?"

Guyard nodded profusely. “Yes, my lord. There was talk of nothing else on the road. They say that his Lord Hand was executed on the steps of the Sept of Baelor, with his own greatsword. Even as his daughters watched on.”

There was a rumble of dissent and Mace Tyrell looked to his daughter with an anxious frown. "Go," he told her firmly. "This is no talk for ladies."

Margaery looked like she'd rather like to object but she collected up her sewing without a word and led her companions away through an archway in the courtyard's walls. Renly watched them leave absently, still a little taken aback by Guyard's words. He'd assumed that Cersei would be counselling her son and he'd never thought her foolish enough to openly execute the head of one of the Great Houses. He wondered whether she'd lost control over him. The thought rather amused him, morbid as it was.

Lord Paxter looked to Tarly. “Well war is inevitable now then?”

Tarly's face hardened. “It would seem so. The North will not stand for this.”

Mace's expression wavered slightly and he glanced at Renly with a hard-set mouth. “I imagine we will be expected to call the banners soon then."

Renly smiled to himself. He wasn’t surprised to see the unease on Mace’s face. The lord clearly had no intention of rising for a faraway king- the son of a king he’d opposed fifteen years ago no less- but sat next to Renly, brother of the old king and uncle of the new, he had no choice but to say what was expected of him. Unlike his youngest son, he wasn't privy to all of Renly's plotting and scheming.

Feeling all the men's eyes on him, Renly turned to Mace and shrugged. “I shan't waste the effort personally," he said. "Not for a creature like my nephew."

Tarly turned about. “No?” he asked, a curious frown upon his face.

Renly laughed, picking up his cup of wine from the table. “Well,” he said lightly, carefully. “If my nephew seems so determined to ignore wise counsel and lose his throne, who am I to stop him? Cruel kings never last long and the sooner this one dies, the better.” He thought back to his actions in King's Landing as Robert had lain on his deathbed. He’d meant then merely to prevent Cersei taking the regency, not to strip Joffrey of his throne. It had only been on the road that he’d begun to imagine himself as King. It had been but the seed of an idea then, a vague possibility, yet now Renly wondered whether he'd actually had great foresight. It seemed now that Joffrey was intent on handing his throne on a plate to whoever was brave enough to come and claim it.

Lord Mace nodded his agreement slowly, mulling over Renly's words. “But to be replaced by whom?" he murmured. "His brother is but a child.”

Renly shrugged carelessly. “Whoever has the largest army, I presume." And with that, he got to his feet and beckoned for Ser Guyard to follow him, leaving the cogs to turn in Mace’s head.

 

* * *

 

 

It was late in the afternoon by the time that Renly finished with Guyard and he was relieved when he could finally sit down to have a little peace and quiet by himself. Leaving Guyard to be shown to suitable chambers, he'd chosen a secluded spot at the edge of the training yard where he could pretend to be watching Alyn at his lessons but could actually be watching Loras as he drove opponent after opponent into the dust. It was all rather soothing and Renly took solace in watching the rhythmic movements of the knights' swords as they clashed against each other- such a familiar sight even for him. Altogether it was strange, Renly thought, how life could carry on as usual here while so much turmoil raged across the rest of Westeros. It was as if time stood still in the South.

He was still watching Loras when he felt another person slide onto the bench next to him. Turning, he was not altogether surprised to see Margaery. She was not alone though and Renly raised an eyebrow to see a man stood ten yards or so away, clearly watching her closely. Tall and grim-faced, he didn't look like the sort of man Margaery usually associated with.

Renly gestured to him. “A suitor?” he laughed.

“No,” Margaery sighed, rolling her eyes. “One of our guard. What with such bloodshed in the kingdoms, father has decided that I am to go nowhere alone, even within these walls.”

Renly was unsurprised to hear that and he looked the man up and down. “And this is the chosen man is it?” As grim an appearance as the man had, there seemed nothing fierce about him. Renly thought him a poor deterrent at best.

“Yes,” Margaery said. “But only for a little while until someone more suitable is found." She sighed heavily, leaning in close so that the man might not overhear. "My father has already written to Lord Crane, asking for his youngest son. He’s quite the tourney champion, at least down here in the south. And his uncle is Master-at-arms here.”

Renly smiled. “Well let’s hope he’s better humoured than that one.”

“Quite," Margaery agreed.

The conversation trailed off rather naturally there and Renly was pleased when Margaery said no more. Loras was sparring with Ser Narbert now- his least favourite of Renly's retinue- and that was always rather amusing to watch. Both held a grudge against the other and even under the watchful eye of many other knights, one of them usually ended up losing their temper. Watching both of their faces- for neither of them wore helms in the heat- Renly was beginning to suspect it would be Ser Narbert this time. Loras was looking too smug, too pleased with every blow he parried to get angry quite yet.

Indeed, Ser Narbert was just beginning to snarl when Margaery laid her hand on Renly's arm. Rather disappointed, Renly turned away from the action to hear what she had to say.

“Lord Stark’s death will cause chaos, won’t it?” she murmured quietly, delicate fingers tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

“Undoubtedly,” Renly agreed.

“And did you mean what you said? That whoever has the largest army will sit the throne?”

Renly laughed. She had his attention well and truly now. He was all too aware that Margaery had been sent away by her father long before he'd said anything of the kind. “And how did you know I’d said that?” he asked. "I'll be damned if your father told you."

She gestured at the training yard, a small sweet smile on her face. “You should really tell your squire to stop sharing a chamber with my companions.”

Renly laughed heartily. “And deny him the little pleasure he gets?” He looked down fondly at Margaery.” Besides,” he added. “You’d just ask Loras instead. He wasn't there to hear today but that's a rarity indeed.”

Margaery merely continued smiling. “Back to my question though, did you mean what you said?" She dropped her voice to an urgent whisper. "That whoever has the largest army will sit the throne?”

Renlly shrugged. “Yes,” he said. “Though it’s more complicated than that." He then smiled down a little wickedly at her, eyes twinkling. "Not really a topic for ladies though. Perhaps if you ask your septa, she'll explain it to you in an appropriate manner."

Margaery ignored his jibe. “Well if you mean what you said, you’ll be wanting my father’s armies then,” she whispered.

Renly raised an eyebrow. He didn’t bother to contradict her though. He imagined that she was merely guessing at his intentions but for all he knew Loras may have told her the truth of what he planned to do. He'd learnt never to underestimate how much Loras let slip to his sister.

“I don’t deny it,” he said eventually. “An alliance with your father would suit my purposes very well.”

“Yes,” Margaery agreed easily. “And I could get it for you.”

Renly raised his other eyebrow and smiled down at her, amused. The girl was Loras' sister indeed, he had to think. Only a girl who shared his blood could be so bold. “Is that so?” he chuckled. “I mean no offence, my lady, but I dare say Loras shall be able to talk your father into the idea just as well as you. It is well known after all that Loras is the favourite of all three of your father’s sons.”

“He is,” Margaery admitted with a cheerful laugh. “But you said it yourself. Loras is his favourite _son_." She straightened her shoulders to sit up a little taller before leaning in. "I on the other hand am his only _daughter_.”

Renly felt his breath hitch in his throat. “And what of it?” he said lightly. He knew exactly what she was hinting at though and his eyes flicked involuntarily to Loras who was still driving Ser Narbert back against the courtyard wall. Even occupied as he was, he noticed Renly’s gaze almost immediately and raised a smirk before turning back to his opponent.

Margaery paused, her eyes flicking to Loras and back again as well. “Well, every king needs a queen,” she murmured, her voice half a laugh. "Particularly one that comes with a hundred thousand swords." She tilted her face up to his and Renly could see that her expression was as serious as her voice was not.

Renly looked once more back at Loras before he dared to meet her eyes. “Margaery,” he murmured eventually. “This is a path we can't go down.” Even as he said the words though, Renly felt a tingle of excitement run up his spine that he knew had nothing to do with Margaery’s charms and everything to do with the one hundred thousand swords that may as well have been her dowry.

“Well Lord Renly,” she laughed, rising daintily to her feet. “You need only ask.”


	132. Chapter 132

Despite what he’d told her, Renly thought on Margaery’s words all that evening. He was preoccupied even at dinner, eating little and speaking even less. He barely noticed attempts to speak to him and Alyn had to tap him on the shoulder several times before he even noticed that he was being offered wine. Instead, his mind was whirring and his imagination was running quickly away with him. His mind was on battles that had not been fought yet, an army that had not been mobilised yet. He was well aware that the Reach could field a hundred thousand soldiers if it had to and-more importantly perhaps- that Mace Tyrell clearly loved his daughter enough to march every single one of them north if that would make her happy.

Renly was still lost in those thoughts when dinner concluded and he let Loras lead him up staircase after staircase without really taking any notice of where his feet were taking him.

“You seem distracted,” Loras commented once they reached Renly’s chambers.

Renly just hummed his agreement, entering his room and crossing it to stand by the window. There was a full moon tonight and it cast its light across the fields and orchards below. His rooms faced north-east and Renly found himself following the sliver of light that was the river Mander, picking out Cider Hall and Goldengrove in its bends- all those southron holdfasts whose swords could soon be his. The road was visible too, as a dark streak that disappeared into the horizon, and Renly followed it north too, his imagination taking him past the fork that would take him back to Storm’s End and all the way to the gates of King’s Landing. Those walls had never been breached before and yet never had an army of a hundred and thirty thousand men stood outside them either.

He was jolted out of his thoughts by Loras’ hands on his waist. Calloused fingers were slipping beneath the fabric of his undershirt, sliding round his middle and they made focusing on King's Landing rather difficult. 

“Not now, Loras.”

Loras ignored him and merely slipped his hands further up Renly’s undershirt. It felt nice but Renly already felt guilty. He knew full well that he couldn’t bed Loras tonight having spent the entire evening contemplating wedding his sister.

“I said no, Loras.”

Loras’ fingers paused and then left his chest. He was quiet for a few moments and then he put his hands hesitantly back on Renly’s waist, over the fabric this time. He clearly wasn’t used to his attentions being rejected.

“What’s the matter, Renly?” he murmured. 

Renly forced himself to turn away from the window. “Nothing,” he told him brightly, attempting a smile. “I’m just tired.”

Loras clearly didn’t believe a word but he turned away regardless and began undressing. He looked as lovely as he always did tonight- all curly hair and long lithe limbs. When he was down to his small clothes, he climbed into bed and blew out the candle, casting the room into near darkness. It was a shame, Renly thought dimly. Only the moonlight coming through the open drapes illuminated the room now and Renly could only make out Loras’ curly head against the white cotton pillows.

“Will you be joining me?” Loras asked.

“Soon.”

It didn't turn out to be soon. Renly had no desire to sleep and instead, he paced the room fretfully, battling with his conscience all the while. When he looked out of the window across the fields and lands that could all be his, he seemed to be quite sure of what he wanted. And yet when he turned back to Loras, who was still waiting for him silently in bed, he wasn't sure at all. When he looked at Loras, part of him wanted to bend the knee to Joffrey and simply live the rest of his days out in Storm's End, having picnics by the beach and long rides along the clifftops. There would be tourneys and feasts in summer and roaring open fires in winter- if winter ever came that was. It wasn't everything he dreamt of but it was far from a bad life.  

Renly could tell when Loras eventually fell asleep. He’d stopped fidgeting and was peacefully still. Crossing the room, Renly sat down on the edge of the bed next to him and reached out a hand to touch his face gently. Loras was sixteen now, a man full grown, yet in the dim moonlight Renly could imagine that he was still the ten-year-old boy he’d been sent six long years ago. Biting back a sigh, Renly wondered what that ten-year-old would have made of the Margaery's proposition. He imagined that he'd have been over the moon actually. After all, what young boy _didn't_ want his favourite companion to be his good-brother? 

Somehow though, Renly didn't think the sixteen-year-old would share that enthusiasm. Loras was no longer his squire, nor even a mere companion; he was some kind of lover and Renly supposed that that made all the difference. 

Smiling a little sadly, he reached out to touch a curl. Loras was peaceful now and yet Renly could imagine how his face would contort with rage if he knew what Renly was even contemplating. He’d feel hurt, betrayed, and Renly wasn’t sure whether any army was worth that, even if it did mean having to grovel before Joffrey’s feet.

There was another side to consider though and Renly rolled the silky curl between his thumb and forefinger, conflicted. He was well aware that Loras dreaded the day he took a wife and that his first reaction to Margaery's suggestion would be to blanch. But he was equally aware though that Loras longed for home whenever he was away. He missed his family and he missed his sister.

Closing his eyes, Renly thought back on the years. It was many times now that Loras had been forced to choose between him and his family, and every time he’d chosen to stay by his side. That filled Renly with warmth and yet he knew that the choice had never been an easy one. If he wed Margaery, however, that choice would never have to be made again; Loras would get the best of both worlds. 

His own choice made, Renly slipped into bed beside him, holding his sleeping form close.

 

* * *

 

 

The next morning, Renly rose with a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. Loras was long gone from his bed and Renly supposed that he should get up too. He had to find Margaery before his resolve failed.

He found her at her sewing in one of the gardens and after she had excused herself to her grandmother and septa, they took a turn around one of Highgarden’s courtyards, the guard that her father had assigned her following out of earshot. She listened quietly as Renly told her that he’d changed his mind but the wide smile forming on her face was unmistakable. This was clearly what she’d hoped for.

They’d done a loop of Highgarden’s central courtyard now and they came to a stop by the fountain, Margaery bending to dip her hands in the cool water. Standing back a little, Renly took the opportunity to take a good, long look at her. Her hair had been left loose down her back today and her dress was a pale gold. Renly wondered whether she’d worn it deliberately because it was the colour both their houses had in common.

There was no doubt that she was beautiful and Renly smiled to think of how envious other men would be when they saw her by his side. Any heirs she bore him would no doubt be comely too, though Renly reflected on that with a little less satisfaction. Heirs of course would be a necessity but he struggled to imagine himself taking the girl in front of him to bed- regardless of how much she resembled Loras.

Sighing, he took her hand. It felt very different from Loras’, soft and smooth rather than rough and calloused. When she looked up at him though, the eyes were just the same. He wasn’t sure whether he found that comforting or alarming.

“Are you going to speak with my father then?” she murmured.

Renly nodded. “Yes,” he said gravely. “But not yet.”

Margaery squeezed his hand. “Because you have to speak with Loras first?”

“Indeed,” Renly agreed quietly. “Because I have to speak with Loras first. He has to be the first to know.”

“Yes,” Margaery agreed. “I suppose he does.”

Renly nodded, closing his eyes. He could already feel a head-ache coming on. He was not looking forward to speaking to Loras in the slightest. All the same, Loras had to be told before Margaery’s father. It would be humiliating for him to find out from somebody else and Renly had no doubt that Mace would tell anyone who cared to listen as soon as he expressed an interest in wedding his daughter. 

Margaery put a hand on his arm. “You know,” she said, “I can do it if you don’t think you can. He listens to me too.”

Renly sighed. It was a tempting offer but one he couldn’t take- not if he had any shred of decency left. “No,” he said grimly. “It has to come from me.”

 

* * *

 

 

As always, Loras was in the training yard when Renly sought him out. He was sparring with his brother today and for once he appeared to be struggling. Beads of sweat were trickling down his forehead and his thrusts were heavy, almost clumsy. He and Garlan had clearly been going at each other for a while now.

Shielding his eyes from the sun’s glare, Renly stood watching him as he had done thousands of times before. His current squire was somewhere in the training yard too and yet Renly only had eyes for the previous one. Loras was on the defensive now, taking one step back after another. His footwork was still impeccable of course but he was slowing down, his parries becoming more and more strained.

It was only when Garlan had got him pushed right back up against the courtyard wall that he noticed Renly standing watching. Holding his hand up to stop the fight, he ducked under Garlan’s sword arm to walk over.

“What is it?” he asked when he was close enough. He smelt of leather, sweat and steel- quite different from his perfumed sister.

“I wanted a word,” Renly told him.

Loras must have seen that his expression was serious, for he sheathed his sword without a fuss and made to follow Renly out of the courtyard. That was a little surprising. Usually he'd have rolled his eyes and told Renly that whatever it was would have to wait until he'd finished in the training yard. Renly suspected it had something to do with the fact he'd been on the brink of losing. 

“Well, what’s the matter?” he asked softly as soon as they'd rounded a corner. “You’ve not been yourself at all recently.”

“Not here,” Renly mumbled. “It's important; we can't be overhead.”

“As you wish.”

Silently, they walked together through the winding passages of Highgarden. Renly didn’t really know where he was going; he just knew that he wanted to get away from the crowded area surrounding the central courtyard and gardens. There were too many people there, too many people to listen in. Most, Renly knew, would be innocent eavesdroppers- servants and knights who just happened to be milling around and getting on with their own business when they heard a snippet of conversation. Some, however, would listen more closely than they had reason to. They'd flutter as close as they could get and within an hour they'd be sending little notes to spiders in the capital.  

Eventually though, they reached a small terrace that Renly didn’t think he’d seen before. It was deserted and so Renly slowed his pace. It was unlikely that they would be overheard here. Even Vary's little birds couldn't make themselves invisible and surely even they had no reason to come into such a deserted part of the castle. 

Deserted or not though, Loras seemed to know exactly where he was. Taking Renly’s hand, he led him across the empty terrace and into a small alcove in the castle wall where there was a rusty iron bench.

Renly sat down hesitantly. Part of him wished he’d kept walking.

“So what was it you wanted to speak to me about?” Loras asked.

Renly bit back a sigh, unsure whether he should bother beating around the bush or not. “Now you have to promise to hear me out before you lose your temper," he said. 

Loras merely raised an eyebrow. “I can try, I suppose," he agreed. He didn't look hopeful though. 

Renly ran a hand through his hair. “Well, you remember what we talked about on the road, don’t you? Why we’re here?”

Loras shrugged. “We’re here because you want an alliance with my father.”

“Yes, we are.”

“Well, have you asked him yet?”

“No,” Renly admitted. “But I’ve been speaking to him. And you were right when you said that he probably wouldn’t be keen to actively oppose Joffrey. Margaery told me some time ago that he intends to heed the summons to King’s Landing as soon as Willas is fit to travel again.”

Loras bowed his head slightly. “I don’t know what to suggest then. He can be quite stubborn, my father. And if he's already decided to do something, it's hard to dissuade him.”

Renly took a deep breath. “Well," he said, "actually, Margaery and I have been talking, and I know you won’t like it but…”

“But what?”

“Well,” Renly said again, “the easiest way to form an alliance is to…” His courage failed as soon as he saw Loras’ face and he petered off uncertainly.

Loras’ eyes flashed. “Whatever you do, Renly, please don’t finish that sentence.”

“ _Loras…_ ”

“You asked me not to get angry and I won’t, but only if you stop talking now.”

Renly just sighed, wringing his hands in his lap. “Then I guess I’ll have to deal with you losing your temper,” he said glumly. He’d come too far now to back down; he'd built his hopes up too much. He’d just have to wait out Loras’ anger and hope that he eventually calmed down enough to see his side. It was only then- when Loras was calm enough to think rationally- that they’d be able to have a sensible conversation about this.

That moment was not now though and Loras got to his feet angrily. “So I’ve got the right of your intentions then, have I?”

“I suppose you have,” Renly admitted.

“My sister, Renly. My fucking _sister_.”

“Yes, but if you think about it _logic_ -“

Rage twisted down his face. “Yes,” he spat. “If I think about it logically, then I’ll surely realise that all I’ve ever wanted is for my sister to wed my- _my_ _lover_.”

Renly winced painfully. “I asked you to hear me out before you-“

“Well I won’t have it,” Loras snapped. “I won’t see my sister, my only sister, wed to a man who’ll never love her, who’ll never even _look_ at her in the way she deserves. You lie with _men_ , Renly. She deserves better than that.”

“You were willing to wed her to Robert,” Renly pointed out evenly, trying to not let words said in anger upset him. “And I’ll treat her much better than he would have done. _Despite_ what I do with you. Possibly even because of it. Robert would have ruined her.”

“Yes, but I was never happy about that plan and you damn well know it.”

Renly sighed heavily, getting to his feet too. “I’m not asking you to be _happy_ about the match. I’m asking you to consent to it.”

“You don’t need my consent. You’ve hers and you’ll have my father’s as soon as you ask. You don’t need my consent and you bloody well know it.”

Renly met his eyes, holding his gaze deliberately. “And yet I’m asking for it all the same.”

“And I’m saying no.”

“Oh Loras,” Renly implored. “Just think about this for a moment. Properly. Think of all the other husbands she could have. I’ll treat her properly. It’s what she _wants_.”

“Well maybe you’d like to think about what _I_ want for a change.”

He didn’t wait for Renly to answer him this time and before Renly could even open his mouth, he'd stalked off, leaving Renly lost in the depths of Highgarden.

 

* * *

 

 

Renly only dared to seek him out late that evening. He found him alone, sitting on the swing that had been built for his mother with his face turned to the floor. Even though it was dark, Renly could see that his eyes were red. He’d evidently been crying.

He didn’t seem to notice Renly approach and so Renly stood at a distance for a while, watching him silently. It was a rare event to see Loras upset and it made him wonder whether he was making a mistake here, whether Loras would _never_ see that there were merits to it being his own sister that Renly chose for a wife. Renly supposed that he could understand if he didn't. It wasn't an easy task that he was asking of him after all. He was asking him to share him for the rest of his life, to see his sister become his wife and to become the mother of his children. 

“I know you’re there," a small voice whispered- Loras’ voice. He hadn't even raised his head though and Renly got the feeling that he didn't want to look at him. 

Renly shifted a little awkwardly. “Do you want me to leave you in peace?” he asked. 

Loras nodded.

Renly slunk back into the darkness. Loras, he knew, would talk when he was ready and not a moment before. 


	133. Chapter 133

“Ser Loras has been absent these last few days,” Alyn remarked quietly as he laid out Renly’s shaving things for the morning.

His voice was light and the question had been posed casually, as if it were merely an observation he’d just made but Renly knew better. He had heard his men discussing Loras’ sudden withdrawal from company; he’d even heard Ser Andrew and Ser Gladden betting on how long it would be before he reappeared. He was well aware that Alyn was most likely very curious.

“Yes,” Renly agreed. “He has.” Getting up from his chair by the window, he crossed to his dressing table and dipped his fingers into the water Alyn had poured out for him. He was pleased to find it warm enough to his taste and he swirled his shaving brush around in it before working the soap into a lather.

“Is he unwell?” Alyn asked, coming to hover at Renly’s shoulder.

“No,” Renly said. “He’s just not very pleased with me at the moment.”

“Why not?”

Renly sighed, glancing at his reflection in the mirror as he contemplated how much to tell him. Alyn was his squire but he was no young boy. He was more or less of an age with Loras and he’d have to find out at some point. Sooner rather than later, Renly thought dismally. He couldn’t linger aimlessly in Highgarden forever after all.

“Because I’m going to marry Lady Margaery,” he told him quietly.

Alyn dropped the plate he’d been holding. It didn’t smash but made a dull clunk as it hit the floor, the remnants of Renly’s morning meal scattering across the carpet.

“You’re going to marry Lady Margaery” he asked.

Renly raised a small smile. “It’s a fair match don’t you think?”

“Well yes,” Alyn stammered. “But-”

Renly laughed. “You needn’t say anything, Alyn. I know what you mean to say.” He sighed heavily, trying to keep his smile. “And you have my apologies. I know you always thought her rather lovely.”

Alyn’s face was still stunned but he knelt quickly down to clear up the mess he’d made. A small blush was creeping across his cheeks. “When will you bring her back to Storm’s End?” he stammered.

Renly shrugged, his shaving brush long forgotten now in the bowl of cooling water. “I doubt I will actually,” he said.

Alyn raised his head. “No?” he asked.

“Well hopefully we shall be able to stay in King’s Landing,” Renly confided.

Alyn had gathered up the scraps of bread now and he climbed clumsily to his feet. “I thought you said you wouldn’t be returning to King’s Landing while Joffrey is king?”

Renly laughed. “Too true,” he admitted. “But if you must know, I don’t mean for Joffrey to remain king much longer.”

Alyn just gulped a little nervously. “Then who shall you put on the throne instead?”

Renly smiled wryly. “Well why don’t you think about why I might be marrying Lady Margaery?” Rising to his feet, he patted Alyn on the shoulder and walked out. There would be time for shaving later.

 

* * *

 

 

It was another two days before Loras stopped sulking and sought Renly out. He came to him at night, a little after the stars had appeared in the sky and not long after Renly had gone to bed.

Renly heard the door creak open and saw the flickering light of a candle being lit but he didn’t dare raise his head until Loras called his name. It was soft, barely audible and it sent pangs of guilt running down his spine.

He lifted his head. “Loras?” he murmured.

The curtains of his bed parted and a Loras-shaped shadow slipped into bed beside him. It pressed itself close to Renly’s chest and Renly’s chest tightened to feel the wetness of tears against his neck. Loras was proud and he didn’t cry often; his tears hurt Renly more than any wound could have done.

“You know, Loras,” he whispered into the tumble of curls that was tucked into his neck. “I won’t marry Margaery if you ask me not to. I can take you back to Storm’s End if you like and forget everything I said.”

“And swear fealty to Joffrey?” Loras’ voice was thick.

Renly bit back the bitterness rising in his throat. “I suppose I’d have to,” he murmured. The thought made him blanch but he knew that if there was anyone he’d bend the knee to Joffrey to for, it was most certainly Loras.

Loras said nothing though. That was most certainly a promising sign. It meant that he hadn’t come in here with the sole purpose of convincing him to change his mind.

“Have you come from Margaery?” Renly asked him softly. He had a feeling that she was the reason Loras wasn’t shouting at him.

Indeed, Loras nodded, his curls tickling Renly’s neck with every movement of his head.

“And?” Renly whispered.

“And what she says makes sense.”

 Renly sighed, wrapping his arms tightly around Loras’ middle. Loras’ words were what he wanted to hear but he couldn’t ignore how miserable he sounded. “But?” he prompted.

“But… but everything,” Loras sighed. “I don’t want you to wed. Not her, not anyone.”

“I know you don’t,” Renly murmured. He slipped a hand into the back of Loras’ hair, winding curl after curl round his fingers. “But you know, you told me something once.”

Loras merely burrowed further into his neck. “What did I tell you?”

Renly let out a sigh, trying to remember how Loras had worded it. He recalled it well; it had been one of his name days- his nineteenth name day to be precise. Robert had sent him up several whores in honour of the occasion and the morning after Renly remembered asking Loras why he hadn’t been jealous of them like he often was of high-born ladies. He remembered Loras’ reply upsetting him.

He kissed Loras’ curls gently. “Well you told me that you couldn’t bear the ladies that showed an interest in me. And you said it was because someday, I’d wed one of them and she would take me away from you, give me children, a family that you’d never part of.” He tightened his hand in Loras’ hair. “Well this way we’d be part of the same family.”

Loras raised his head. “I suppose we’d be good-brothers wouldn’t we?”

“Yes,” Renly told him, kissing the top of his head. “And you’d be uncle to my children.”

Loras sniffed against his nightshirt. “I suppose,” he mumbled. He raised his head again. “It’s just...”

“Just what?”

“Well you’re mine, Renly,” he whispered. “I don’t want to have to share you. Especially not with my sister. I wouldn’t even be able to hate her in peace.” His voice hitched and Renly shifted to cradle his head a little closer.

“I know,” he murmured. “I know. But whatever happens, I will always love you best. I shan’t ever love anyone like I love you. Nothing is going to change.”

Loras tightened his grip around Renly’s chest.” Promise?” he whispered.

“Promise,” Renly whispered back.

Loras nodded weakly and wiped his eyes on Renly’s nightshirt.

Renly managed a small chuckle. “That’s my shirt, Loras,” he protested. “Not a handkerchief.”

Loras shrugged. Sniffing again, he took the hem of Renly’s night shirt and lifted it up over Renly’s head. “That’s better,” he murmured, the sound muffled against Renly’s neck as he pressed a kiss there.

Renly ran his hands up Loras’ side. It felt good to have him close like this after so many nights in an empty bed but he undressed him warily, not entirely sure whether this was a good path for them to be going down. Making love usually smoothed over their disagreements but this one had yet to be resolved. Renly thought it rather premature.

He readied Loras all the same, his fingers steadier than his resolve. For once though, Loras was eerily silent. It was only when Renly finally pushed into him that he groaned, and even that was half a sob.

“I suppose you’ll be doing this with my sister,” he whispered from underneath him, and it was only then that Renly realised that this was Loras’ way of giving him his consent. Indeed, he’d even put himself  
In the submissive position.

“Well hopefully not quite this,” Renly murmured, eyes half-closed. “I don’t think I’d get any heirs on her this way.”

Loras made a face at that and they fell back into silence, rocking steadily against each other. Pinned to the bed like this, Loras was barely able to move and so it fell to Renly to set their rhythm. For once, he didn’t even give any direction, merely lying underneath him like a rag doll.

“Do you think you’ll hurt her?” he murmured after a few moments.

Renly contemplated that. There were occasions where he’d left Loras sore and bleeding but he supposed that bedding a woman would hardly be comparable. Idly, he wondered whether he would fit inside Margaery. He didn’t know much about the bodies of women but he supposed that he would. Small as she was, she was still a woman.

“Well I’ve always been under the impression that women were more suited to being fucked,” he murmured as he rocked up into Loras once more. He thrust an elbow in the direction of the vial of oil that now lay discarded on one of his pillows. “Presumably, one wouldn’t need that.”

Loras sniffed.” I don’t know,” he said with a shaky voice. “ _You_ might.”

The attempt at teasing was feeble but Renly tried to laugh. “I should hope not,” he said. “I do a fair job with you at least.” To prove his point, he thrust up into him, angling his hips in the way that he knew would draw every last drop of pleasure out of Loras’ body.

Indeed, Loras gasped at the movement, his eyes fluttering closed. As soon as he’d recovered his composure though, his face became forlorn again. He clearly wasn’t in any mood for pleasure.

“But promise me, Renly,” he whispered, more loudly this time. “Promise me you won’t hurt her?”

He sounded genuinely worried and Renly stilled his hips a little. He wasn’t sure whether he ought to be offended by the fact that Loras evidently thought him capable of hurting his precious sister. “Whatever makes you think I’ll hurt her?” he breathed.

Shifting slightly underneath him, Loras picked up one of Renly’s hands, tracing his palms. “Well obviously you wouldn’t on purpose,” he whispered. “But you’re just so big. And she’s so small.”

Renly squeezed Loras’ fingers gently. “I’ve never hurt you with these hands, have I?”

“Well no,” Loras agreed quietly. “But that’s hardly a comparison. I’m a man, Renly.”

Raising himself up on his elbows, Renly looked him up and down as best he could. The boy underneath him was as slim as a whip but there was nothing feminine about him. Muscle rippled under every inch of his skin and he had the strength to knock even the most fearsome warrior off his horse in the lists. Margaery on the other hand barely came up to the middle of his chest. He could see why Loras thought it an unfair comparison.

“Yes,” he agreed, “your sister’s small. But you know I won’t hurt her. You know I’ve a gentle hand.”

Slowly, Loras nodded.

“And I’d be too scared to anyway,” Renly murmured under his breath. “I hear her brother’s good with a sword.”

Loras raised a small smile that was clearly only for his benefit.

Both their hips had stilled now and Renly wondered whether they were fighting a losing battle trying to make love. It was clear that neither of their hearts were in it and he imagined that both of them had their minds still on Margaery. He knew for certain at least that his own was.

Gently, he rolled off him.

Loras’ expression wavered as soon as Renly had lifted his weight off him though, the forced smile slipping off his face like water. “What are you doing?” he whispered.

Renly sat back on his haunches. “Well I assumed that you weren’t enjoying it,” he said, running a hand through his hair, “that you weren’t in the mood.”

Loras didn’t bother to deny that but he still pulled Renly back on top of him with a rough hand around each wrist. “You promised nothing would change,” he hissed. “So you’re going to fuck me if it bloody well kills you.”

Renly blinked, a little taken aback. He lowered himself back onto Loras hurriedly before he had time to snap at him again. He only managed a few thrusts though before his cock failed him. Soft, it slipped out of Loras and Renly didn’t think he’d ever felt more irritated at himself.

Sighing, he put his head in his hands. He’d have offended Loras now and he waited wearily for the anger.

To his surprise, it never came. He glanced up. “Loras?” he murmured.

To his surprise, Loras just sighed and took Renly’s hands in his. “It happens,” he said quietly. “I shouldn’t have snapped.”

Gratefully, Renly rolled onto his side. “Just give me a few moments,” he said. Reaching down, he gave his cock a few rough tugs, determined to fuck Loras if that’s what he wanted.

Loras just shrugged though. “No,” he yawned softly. “You were right. Neither of us are in the mood.” His arms winding round Renly’s middle, he tucked his head into the crook of Renly’s neck. “And besides,” he whispered. “You’re going to need your rest if you’re to ask my father for Margaery’s hand tomorrow.”

Renly just grinned at him. As terrifying as he imagined Mace Tyrell could be towards potential suitors for his beloved daughter, he knew that he’d already got past the worst obstacle.


	134. Chapter 134

Renly had expected that he would need to use all the charm he possessed in order to convince Mace Tyrell to raise his banners for him, and yet he was sat now in the Lord of Highgarden’s audience chamber pleasantly surprised. The agreements had been made and a date for the wedding set. It was only the finer details now that needed to be discussed, and Renly supposed now that he’d grossly underestimated Loras’ father. In all the time that he'd known him, Renly had never seen anything but a bumbling fool under the flowers and finery. Now, however, he saw the man anew; he saw an ambitious lord who was grasping the opportunity Renly was offering him with both hands. His eyes had lit up greedily at the first mention of Margaery and he’d been all but champing at the bit by the time that Renly had pointed out the fact that his grandson would one day sit the throne.

All in all, Renly thought it a rather symbiotic arrangement. He had the –albeit distant- claim to the throne and Mace Tyrell had both the men to field an army and the wheat to feed it. Together, Renly imagined that they’d be all but be able to stroll into King’s Landing and knock the crown from Joffrey’s noble brow. It was an amusing thought and one that made Renly wish he could wed Margaery this very instant. 

Mace Tyrell’s voice soon knocked him from his imaginings though. “And your small council, my lord?” he was asking. His voice sounded hungry again.

Renly smiled widely and took a sip from his iced milk, trying to hide the fact that he was thinking. In his daydreams, he’d always assumed that he’d have Penrose as his Hand. Sat opposite Loras’ father, however, who had just offered to pay off the Iron Bank for him, he thought that he could only give one answer.

“Why yourself, of course,” he laughed. “If you would be agreeable to coming to the capital.”

“Yes, yes of course. I would be most honoured. And the others?”

Renly shrugged. If he was honest, he hadn't yet given it a lot of thought. “Well I shall certainly ask Lord Redwyne to serve as my Master of Ships," he said. "And perhaps I shall invite Lord Hightower or his heir to serve as Master of Coin.”

Mace Tyrell nodded cheerfully. He was clearly flattered. Lord Redwyne was his cousin whilst Lord Hightower was his good-father. He needn't have looked so pleased though, Renly thought. Both were very obvious choices. The Redwyne fleet was the finest in the Seven Kingdoms, whilst the Hightowers were almost as rich as the Lannisters. 

“The others I shall perhaps leave vacant,” Renly continued. “Titles are cheap to sell. It may be that I have to treat with the Starks and the Tullys. Or even Dorne.”

“Or your brother,” Mace added. “Or do you imagine that he will rise for you?”

Renly just laughed at his words. He’d forgotten about Stannis but he knew now that his brother would be far from impressed with the plans that he and Mace Tyrell were laying. Stannis wasn’t exactly fond of their nephew but Renly knew without a doubt that he would support him. It was his duty as a vassal and Stannis took all his duties very seriously. Joffrey was king by right, and in Stannis' eyes that would mean he was fit to rule regardless of the truth of the matter. 

He was just about to explain this to Mace Tyrell when there was a loud knock on the door.

“We’re not to be disturbed,” Mace called.

The door swung open anyway and Renly smiled to see Loras in the doorway, his curly hair all in disarray from the training yard. He looked to be in a bad mood and Renly wondered whether it was because he knew what Renly was talking to his father about.

Mace Tyrell stood. “Oh, it’s you, son,” he mumbled, looking a little uncertainly between Renly and Loras. “Did you not hear me? We are not to be disturbed.”

Renly shifted a little uncomfortably. He’d never known whether Mace Tyrell was aware of the fact that he and Loras shared bedchambers and he’d just been beginning to think perhaps that he wasn’t- he’d seemed just that little bit too eager for him to marry Margaery for him to know. Now though, he was unsure again. Mace Tyrell had definitely given his youngest son a rather odd look indeed. 

Loras, however, seemed unfazed. “I did hear, father, but there’s someone in the courtyard for Lord Renly.”

Renly sat up a little straighter in his chair. “Really? Is it Penrose?"

“I don’t know why you sound so excited,” Loras muttered. “It’s only Penrose.”

Renly just laughed and excused himself to Mace Tyrell. There would be time later for planning. For now, he had to greet his castellan.

 

* * *

 

 

Renly found Penrose in the courtyard. He was accompanied by a good dozen men, all of whom Renly recognised save one. The man in question was blond, very tall- taller even than Renly himself- and stood on Penrose’s right hand side. It was a position of honour and Renly found himself surprised that he didn’t recognise him. He had always flattered himself to think that he knew all those men who resided within his own walls.

It was only when the man turned to face him head on that Renly recognised him. Or _her_ rather, Renly thought to himself with some amusement, for it wasn’t a man at all, but a lady in full armour.

“Lady Brienne,” he smiled as he crossed the courtyard. “Why, you’ve swapped dresses for steel and still manage to look radiant.”

It wasn’t a lie. Upon seeing him, her homely face had split into a smile. It was much more obvious that she was a woman when she smiled and Renly wondered why she’d sheared off her long blonde hair. As straw-like as it had been, it had gone some way to ensuring she wasn’t mistaken for a man. 

The lady Brienne swept into a small bow at his words, her armour clattering at the joints. The noise only went some way though towards masking the sniggering behind her.

“Yes,” Penrose said to Renly as his horse was led away by one of Highgarden's many squires. “Lady Brienne’s father sent her to Storm’s End some months past. We are lucky to have her. She has proved herself most useful.”

“I was saddened to find you not at home, my lord,” Brienne added, a faint blush creeping into her cheeks. 

Renly just laughed, a little baffled by the whole situation. He’d seen the girl in armour before but he’d assumed it a childish whim, not something to be indulged when she was approaching her nineteenth year. It seemed now though that the Evenstar had given up on making a lady out of his only child and heir.

“Well you must stay some time at Highgarden,” he told her with a smile. “I promise you, the weather is far superior here.” He winked at Penrose. “The company too.”

Penrose rolled his eyes. “Yes yes. Now, my lord. I expect we have much to discuss?”

“As always,” Renly agreed. He beckoned for Penrose to follow him, giving a courteous nod to the men they were leaving behind in the yard.

Penrose knew better than to talk while they will still surrounded by people and he waited until Renly had led him well into the castle gardens before speaking. “It’s good to see you, my lord," he said, looking Renly up and down with an appraising eye. "You look very well. I'm glad to see Robert's passing hasn't knocked the life out of you."

Renly just smiled, taking a seat on a bench that was set into the flowers- a bench that he was told Olenna Tyrell liked to sit on and spy sometimes. He would take advantage of it now; he didn't want he and Penrose to attract attention. 

“Go on,” he chuckled. “You have my leave to skip the pleasantries, Penrose. I can see you’re itching to say something. So go on, scold me.”

“I think you’re a little old for scolding, my lord,” Penrose said lightly, remaining standing. “But I do have to wonder quite what you think you’re doing? Whilst you sun yourself here in Highgarden, more summons from King’s Landing arrive at Storm’s End every day. I have ignored them all as you instructed but this new king’s patience is waning.”

Renly ignored him, stretching his legs out lazily. “Did you call the banners as Guyard asked?”

“Yes. Though next time send someone I don’t want to throttle.”

Renly grinned. Penrose and Guyard had never been on the best of terms. His castellan wasn’t even secretly fond of Guyard like he was Loras.

“But regardless,” Penrose ploughed on, pacing before Renly. “That is not the point. _Why_ have you called your banners, my lord? You’re ignoring the summons so I can’t believe you intend to march our strength north against the Starks and Riverrun.”

Renly scoffed. “Of course I don’t.”

“Then why have you had me call the banners?”

Renly smiled, meeting Penrose’s eye. “Because I don’t think Joffrey should be king.”

“Then who then?”

Renly grinned at him. “I should be.”

Penrose twitched. He had stopped pacing now and he stared at Renly for a good few moments. He didn’t seem as surprised as Renly might have expected him to be though and he regarded Renly curiously.

“My lord,” he said heavily, great patience evident in every word. “I have no doubt that you'd be an admirable king. The best even and one that I would be proud to follow. But have you really thought this whim through?”

Renly laughed. “Of course I have.”

“Well yes, but…”

Renly leant back against the back of the bench, amused. “Go on,” he prompted. “Say your say. Don’t stand there like a fish out of water.”

“Well we haven’t enough men,” Penrose said. “It would be a fool’s errand.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re talking of breaching walls that have never been breached except by dragons. We could defeat Joffrey on the field but not at the walls of Kings Landing. There are ten thousand Gold Cloaks alone. Even if Stannis joined you in some mad stroke of luck, you'd probably never get a single man into the Red Keep.”

He’d paused but he clearly hadn’t run out of steam quite yet and so Renly waved him on. “Continue.”

“And let us say for argument’s sake that you _do_ breach the walls, that you _do_ depose Joffrey, what will you do for gold? You say the crown is several _million_ in debt to the Iron Bank. You’d have to honour that debt or be deposed yourself.”

Renly resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “I know that,” he said. “The Iron Bank will have its due, they say. And it’s true.”

“Well it’s immaterial because it can’t be done,” Penrose said vehemently. “Not with thirty thousand men. Not even if we scrape the very bottom of the barrel and send out green boys and old men.”

Renly grinned. He was enjoying this far too much. “Yes, well I’m not going to do it with thirty thousand men.”

“No?”

“No,” Renly said. “I’m going to do it with _one hundred_ and thirty thousand men.”

Penrose’s face went pale and he stood stock still for a good few moments. “Mace Tyrell has called his banners for you,” he whispered. It wasn’t a question.

“Yes.”

“And he’s going to pay off the bank?"

Renly laughed, plucking a flower from the bed lazily and plucking its petals. “Of course.”

Penrose finally sat down on the bench too, turning earnestly to him. “And what have you given him? I refuse to believe that Mace Tyrell has declared for you simply because Loras bends over f-”

Renly’s eyes flashed. “Careful there.”

Penrose sighed heavily, a hand going to his beard. “Apologies,” he said. “But the point still stands. I refuse to believe that Mace Tyrell would risk so much just because you and his son are _fond_ of each other. He must _want_ something.”

Renly rolled his eyes. “I'm perfectly aware that they'll want something in return, Penrose. I know I shall always be a child to you but I’m not quite naïve enough to believe that the Reach will declare for me out of the goodness of their hearts. I remember the history of our houses well too, I’ll have you know.”

Penrose inclined his head. “So what is it they're getting then? Casterly Rock when we're done with the Lannisters? Storm’s End?”

Renly snorted, throwing what remained of the flower he’d plucked to the ground. “Nobody but a Baratheon shall sit in Storm’s End while I still live," he told Penrose with a little heat. "Even if it has to be bloody Stannis.” Indeed, Renly thought he'd rather see the brother he hated occupy his seat than Mace Tyrell. Forgiveness only stretched so far and Renly still remembered the Siege of Storm's End far too well to ever see a man of the Reach as its lord. 

Penrose smiled. “And so it should be. But what of the Tyrells?”

Renly ran a hand through his hair. This part, he suspected, would be distinctly less amusing. “I get their swords,” he said slowly. “And they… Well they get a queen, Penrose.”

Penrose just looked at him. “A Queen?” he said slowly.

“Mmm,” Renly hummed. “I am to marry Margaery Tyrell within the fortnight.” He didn't meet Penrose's eye but he heard the sharp intake of breath as Penrose reacted to his words. Absent-mindedly, he picked another flower only to tear it to pieces again.

“Are you sure this is a wise path, Renly?” Penrose’s voice was low and urgent. “What about L-”

“You think I haven't considered that.” Renly cut in. He didn't need Penrose to point out the issue of Loras for him.

“Well?” Penrose prompted.

Renly shrugged, daring to meet his eye. “He thinks it’s a good idea,” he lied.

“He does, does he?” Penrose clearly didn’t believe a word and he didn't bother to hide it either. 

Renly sighed. He was just about to argue when Penrose caught his eye. It was a clear warning and Renly turned his head to see Loras himself emerging from the path amongst the flowers. Irritably, Renly wondered how much he'd heard. As much as he loved Loras, he'd rather that he hadn't heard him snub his father in regards to Storm's End. 

“Speak of the devil,” Penrose said darkly as Loras approached, rising to his feet just as Renly did the same. “Renly was just telling me he’s to wed your sister.”

Loras shrugged. “Yes. What of it?”

“I dare say you must be delighted.”

Renly winced. He knew that Loras was far from delighted. He’d accepted it but it had been a rather miserable acceptance indeed.

Loras just shifted though until he and Renly were standing shoulder to shoulder. “Course I am,” he snapped, glaring at Penrose. “Why shouldn’t I be?”

Penrose evidently had nothing to say to that and he fell silent. Satisfied, Loras turned to Renly.

“The kitchens want to know how many extra people they’re feeding tonight.”

Renly shrugged. “Penrose?”

“Thirteen and a lady.”

Loras nodded and with a curt nod to both of them, retraced his steps back towards the castle. He clearly had no wish to join their conversation, or even to engage in pleasantries. 

Penrose laughed dryly at his retreating back. “Gods, Renly,” he sighed. “You could slaughter kittens and Loras would do it with you, wouldn’t he?”

Renly grinned. “Well what can I say?” he chuckled. “I inspire loyalty.”

 

* * *

 

 

Mace Tyrell announced the marriage the next day to both stunned silence and thunderous applause. He’d held a feast in honour of the occasion and the Reach lords that he’d invited to his table all clambered to their feet in excitement, forming a line to offer their congratulations. It was with some amusement that Renly noted that only those lords with sons of marriageable age had remained seated, their faces solemn. It was easy to guess that they had hoped for their sons and heirs to take Margaery Tyrell as a bride.

Renly received all their well wishes cheerfully, his hand firmly entwined with Margaery’s. These were the lords after all who would rise for him, who would march their men north for him and make him their king. He meant to smile at them until his entire face ached. 

It was only when his own retinue approached him to give their own congratulations that he faltered a little. Most of his men managed to hide their surprise rather well but a few fell rather short. Ser Andrew stared openly at him and Margaery, his mouth hanging open, while Ser Gladden drunkenly slurred that he’d never thought he’d see the day that his lord took a wife- a sentence that was cut short by Ser Guyard stepping hard on his foot. The majority of them though couldn’t help but steal a curious glance at Loras and it was only after most of his men had sat back down that Renly dared follow suit himself.

He needn’t have worried. Loras’ face had been carefully arranged into a smile so bright that even Renly couldn’t see through it. 


	135. Chapter 135

Renly had known that organising a wedding as lavish as his and Margaery’s in such a short space of time would be no easy feat, but he hadn’t anticipated quite how much there would be to do. It was his and Mace Tyrell’s fault really, for it was their insistence on the very best which meant that they had to be consulted on every little detail, but Renly was still rather taken aback. He was wanted everywhere: to approve flower arrangements, or to taste dishes for the feast, or even to choose a fabric for the cloak he’d give Margaery. Nothing could be overlooked.

Some tasks were easy. Renly chose golden roses because they were expensive and because they matched the gold of his and Margaery’s sigils. He chose the dishes which were sweetened with honey and lightly spiced. For the wedding cloak, he settled on a heavy black velvet which was similar to the cloak that Robert had given Cersei. Their father had given that cloak to their mother too, and had circumstances been different, Renly would have sent to King’s Landing for it.

Other tasks, however, were not so easy and it was the invitations which gave Renly the biggest headache. He’d invited every single one of his and Mace Tyrell’s bannermen without a second thought, even the knightly houses, but when it came to guests outside of the Stormlands and the Reach, Renly wasn’t so sure. He’d crossed off all of Robert’s old small council except Stannis and even then he’d scribbled out and rewritten Stannis’ name six or seven times before he eventually gave the master leave to send the raven. He imagined that his brother would ignore the invitation- and he hoped he would- but he’d now done his part.

Dorne was another problem. Renly had no real wish to invite any of the Dornish lords and yet he refused to offend them either. He had no intention of ruling over a fragmented kingdom and that meant securing Dorne’s support through diplomacy. Whereas he could march an army north to subdue Riverrun and use the two Stark girls in King’s Landing to force Winterfell to bend the knee, he had no such power over the Dornish lords. They could hide behind their towering red mountains forever, safe in the knowledge that Renly would never dare to march an army through the Prince’s Pass or the Boneway.

With that in mind, Renly eventually invited most of the Dornish lords, hoping that it would be too far for them to travel at such short notice. It was a long way after all through the mountains into the Stormlands and further still to Highgarden.

Even ignoring the possibility that hordes of Dornish men would descend on them though, the feast would still have to be outside. Highgardens’ grand hall was grand indeed but it wasn’t large enough for the entire nobility of the Reach and the Stormlands. Indeed, all the guests who weren’t quite important enough would be staying in nearby inns. A lot of third and fourth sons fell into this category and quite honestly, Renly imagined that they would be happier for it. It was much easier to whore and drink in an inn than it was within Highgarden’s walls.

The wheels were in motion though and Renly found himself in an ever more cheerful mood with each passing day. Mace Tyrell’s soldiers were beginning to group beneath the walls of Highgarden and every Reach lord that arrived in Highgarden for the wedding informed Mace that their own men had been called to arms too. Most of them spoke proudly and although Mace Tyrell hadn’t enlightened his bannermen as to why he was calling his banners yet, Renly imagined that most of them had guessed. He could see the hunger in their eyes; no doubt they could already taste victory on their tongues. It was a good sign, Renly thought. Bound as they were by the vows they had sworn Mace Tyrell, they were bound also to do the duty of their king.

Even Renly’s men were excitedly muttering amongst themselves. They surely too had realised why the armies of both the Stormlands and the Reach were gathering- and as was natural with most young men- they grew hungry for glory as the prospect of war grew more certain. They sparred eagerly and often, each of them eager to be named commander or to be given the van when battle did come.

Loras too seemed reluctant to stray far from the training yard. Whether this was because he was caught up in the same excitement as the other men though or because he merely wanted to get away from the wedding preparations, Renly wasn’t sure. He imagined that it was probably a mix of both. Loras’ ears seemed to perk up at the very mention of war but he also had a very irritating habit of making himself scarce whenever he was asked to help with any of the wedding preparations.

He did seem to understand though that Renly wasn’t able to spend as much time with him as usual and it was only when the wedding was almost imminent that he sought Renly out and dared to interrupt the preparations.

Renly had been with a seamstress for a final fitting before the wedding when Loras had requested his presence and he loped out into the corridor in breeches that were still a little too long for him.

“What brings you here?” Renly asked with a laugh, leaning against the wall and risking tucking a curl behind Loras’ ear.

“I wanted to ask you for something.”

Renly paused, his heart lurching. He refused to believe Loras capable of asking him not to wed Margaery now at this late stage but he couldn’t help but fear it.

“Well ask away,” he told Loras regardless, burying his fears.

Loras looked rather solemnly up at him before he spoke. “I want us to spend the day together,” he said quietly, “like we always used to when I was your squire.”

Renly wondered now why he’d been worried. “Well of course we can,” he told him with a smile, reaching out to take his hands in the empty corridor. “You don’t need to ask for that.”

“Tomorrow?”

Renly paused hesitantly, the smile disappearing from his face. Tomorrow was the last day before the wedding and there was still much to be done. “Does it have to be tomorrow?” he asked.

Loras was silent for a time. “No,” he breathed eventually. “I guess it doesn’t have to be tomorrow.” His voice was sad though, distant somehow.

“But you’d like it to be,” Renly said. It wasn’t a question.

Loras nodded.

Sighing, Renly ran through his mind what still needed to be done. There was still rather a lot but it only took one look at the forlorn expression on Loras’ face to resign himself to the fact that he wouldn’t be going to bed for some time. “I’ll be yours from dawn until dusk tomorrow then,” he told Loras softly, turning to rejoin the seamstresses.

“And Margaery’s forever after that?”

Renly paused in the doorway. “Only by virtue of a few cloaks,” he whispered.

 

* * *

 

 

Renly was indeed late to bed that night, working with the seamstresses and with the tailor until all his garments for the wedding were fitted to perfection. Everything else he forced himself to delegate, even though it meant that Margaery and her handmaidens got the pleasure of choosing the desserts for the feast- the task that he’d been most looking forward to.

Despite being late to bed, he rose bright and early- much to Alyn’s bemusement- and it was still mid-morning when he and Loras slipped out of Highgarden together.

“I have somewhere to take you,” Loras said once they were clear of the castle’s white walls and the guards’ curious stares.

“Somewhere special?” Renly asked, shifting in his saddle to look at him.

Loras shrugged. “Not particularly,” he said. “Just somewhere nice.”

They followed the Mander in a direction that they’d been in many times before though and Renly had to wonder what there was down here that he hadn’t already seen. Loras had insisted on showing him every inch of his lands surrounding Highgarden when he’d first visited.

A good half an hour had elapsed when they came across a field of roses. They were golden like the ones that Renly had chosen for the wedding and the sight made Renly smile. He imagined that he’d always associate roses with Loras.

“Is it here?” he asked.

Loras frowned though. “No,” he said. “You’ve seen roses before.”

It was only when they came to a small lake a mile or so on that Loras showed any intention of stopping. Not far from the river’s banks, the lake had evidently been one with it at some point. It was towards the lake that Loras led him, taking them along a stony path lined with trees that followed the curve of the lake’s bank.

It was evident as soon as they rounded the next bend what Loras was intent on showing him and Renly had to stare. He’d seen illustrations of the pink birds in books and he thought that there was even a Dornish lord who had taken one as a sigil, but he’d never laid eyes on one before. Here, however, there were hundreds. Their plumage was a rich pink and their beaks a glossy black. They stood in the water on legs which were startlingly long and seemed to bend at strange angles. If Renly hadn’t known better, he would have thought that the whole lot of them had broken legs.

“Ser Tanton told me they were here,” Loras said as he dismounted and tied his mare to a tree. “I thought they might please you.”

“They do,” Renly agreed, sliding off his mount as well to better admire them. “I think I might even prefer them to the peacocks.”

Loras smiled, reaching out a hand to take the reins of Renly’s horse too. “Don’t tell Margaery that or she’ll be demanding a dress made from their feathers.”

“And very nice it would look too,” Renly chuckled. He turned back to look at the birds. “Do you often see these in the Reach?”

“They’re not uncommon,” Loras told him.” I remember seeing a few as a child. They say that they gather here in such numbers at the end of summer. Willas says they’re returning to Essos before the months grow cold.”

Renly laughed. “Well these ones must be a little confused. It’s sweltering.”

Loras grinned at him, hands busy still with Renly’s horse. “I know,” he agreed. “I suppose the summer will have to go eventually though.”

Renly looked up at the sky sceptically. There wasn’t a cloud to be seen and he wasn’t convinced. With every week that passed, he became more and more sure that this summer would never end.

Indeed, it was so hot that Renly made his way eagerly to the lake’s bank. Soon to be crowned king or not, he was certainly not above taking his boots off and cooling his feet in the water- at least not when he only had Loras to witness him do it. After all, he was rather sure indeed that Loras had seen him look far less dignified in their time together.

Loras clearly didn’t think it particularly undignified either, for he soon joined him to sit on the edge of the bank. His legs weren’t quite long enough to reach the water but he took off his boots and rolled up the bottoms of his breeches too. He seemed quite content sat there next to Renly and together they watched the pink birds across the water from them dip their magnificent pink heads into the water as they clearly foraged for food.

It was a while before Loras turned to him, but when he did he looked rather far away. “Do you remember those long summer days we used to spend together, Renly?” he asked. “Back in Storm’s End when we were boys?”

Renly smiled fondly too. “Course I do, Loras. I always will.”

“I miss those days,” Loras sighed. “Back when it was just you and me, and when our only care in the world was having to avoid Penrose scolding us.”

Renly grinned at him. “Penrose never scolded _me_.”

Loras rolled his eyes. “Well speak for yourself,” he muttered. “He _pursued_ me. I seemed to forever be in his bad books.”

“Probably because you were forever misbehaving,” Renly pointed out with another grin, trailing his feet lazily in the water. Loras, he knew, had never been very good at doing what he was told. He’d been insolent and headstrong, and more often than not he’d been insistent too on ignoring what men older and wiser than himself told him to do.

Renly had loved him for it though and he wrapped an arm around him now. “We’re not boys anymore, Loras, and we’ll never be boys again, but they’ll be plenty more carefree days. When I’m king they’ll be tourneys and feasts and lazy sunny afternoons in the gardens eating fruit.” He laughed. “Most days will be like that if I have my way.”

Loras smiled. “Promise?”

“Course I do,” Renly leant in close. “And meanwhile your father will be sat on a very uncomfortable chair.”

Loras laughed.

“And we’ll go back to Storm’s End,” Renly added a little lazily. “Often, if I have my way. However long I’m king, Storm’s End will always be my home.”

“And it’ll be just like it was when we were boys?

“Of course,” Renly grinned, and with a large shove, he pushed Loras into the water. “There you go,” he said as Loras hit the surface of the water with a large splash. “Just like when we were boys.”

Loras had gone almost face-first into the lake but when he stood up the water was only up to his waist. His hair was dripping into his eyes though and he pushed it off his face angrily before rounding on Renly.

“What was that for?” he demanded.

Renly just grinned at him, flicking a bit more water at him with his foot. “I told you,” he said. “You wanted it to be just like it was when we were boys. I am fulfilling this wish for you.”

“I didn’t mean this.”

Renly cocked his head to the side. “Did you not?”

“No.” With a lot of effort he extricated one of his feet out of the soft riverbed and waded back to the bank. There was a lot of mud though and when he tried to climb up he ended up sliding straight back down. The second and third attempts ended similarly.

“Need any help?” Renly asked sweetly, trying to keep himself from laughing as Loras ended up back in the water.

“No.” For the fifth time now, Loras tried to pull himself up, clutching uselessly at strands of grass on the bank which came away in his hands.

“Are you sure?” Grinning, Renly held out a hand for him to grab onto.

“Yes.” Loras’ teeth were gritted now and ignoring Renly’s offer of help, he tried again to scale the bank. His feet slipped back down almost instantly though and laughing, Renly grabbed the back of his tunic, heaving with both hands until Loras had a decent enough hold on the bank to pull himself up the rest of the way.

“I was doing fine on my own,” he muttered, wiping his muddy hands on the grass. His clothes were soaked through though and no amount of dry grass could help him there.

“Course you were,” Renly agreed. He watched cheerfully then as Loras stripped off his wet things and laid them out to dry, hanging some from a tree and spreading others out over the grassy bank.

“You’ll pay for that,” he warned him as he stepped out of his sodden smallclothes. Even Loras though couldn’t keep all of the laughter out of his voice.

Renly grinned, letting his eyes rove over Loras’ naked body. “And yet the sinner is rewarded.”

Loras rolled his eyes. He was clearly amused but he deliberately turned his back on Renly to deny him a good view. Kneeling on the grass, he removed his sword from its sodden leather belt. “I need your cloak,” he said shortly.

“Why?”

“To dry my sword. Otherwise it will rust.”

Renly thought that fair and so he unfastened his cloak and chucked it to him. He then watched fondly as Loras dried his weapon as carefully as if it was a new-born babe.

“I gave you that sword,” he commented after a while. “For your thirteenth name day.”

Loras raised his head, wet curls still running into his eyes and down the back of his neck. “I know you did,” he said. “Which is why I’m taking such great care of it. Despite you being such an arse sometimes.”

Renly looked it up and down. The blade was finely crafted but the pommel was a simple white alabaster. “It’s awfully plain though, isn’t it?” he said. He remembered thinking so when he’d had it forged. It had been Penrose who had insisted that jewels were inappropriate for a thirteen year old. Not him.

Loras shrugged. “I suppose it’s a little plain,” he admitted.

“Do you like it?” Renly asked.

Loras looked at it, polishing the pommel now with Renly’s cloak. “Of course I do,” he said. “You gave it to me.”

“Yes but you don’t have to like something just because I gave it to you,” Renly laughed. “What if I gifted you something monstrously ugly? Like a wardrobe full of Littlefinger’s clothes for instance?”

Loras shrugged and looked down rather fondly at the weapon in his hands before turning to wring out his smallclothes. He got a surprising amount of water out of them and when he was done he made to put them back on.

“Oh don’t get dressed yet,” Renly chuckled. “You’re too handsome for that.”

Loras glanced up at him. “But what if anyone sees us?”

“Then I’m sure they’ll think you’re mighty comely too.”

Loras gave a small smile at that, a familiar glint coming into his eyes. It was clearly an invitation and Renly moved from the bank eagerly. When he was close enough, he placed a hand on Loras’ chest, applying a little pressure until Loras consented to lie back against the grass.

“Actually wait,” Renly said. He picked up his cloak from where Loras had discarded it next to his sword and laid it under Loras’ back. The grass was prickly, and whilst Renly knew Loras wouldn’t have complained, he knew he’d prefer to have soft velvet underneath his bare skin.

He waited until Loras was comfortable before leaning down to kiss him. It had been a while since they’d been intimate and so Renly took his time, pressing his lips very gently to Loras’ as he slipped a hand into his wet curls.

Very briefly, it crossed Renly’s mind to wonder what it would be like to kiss Margaery but then Loras was reclaiming his attention, his lips parting under Renly’s and his hand slipping up the back of Renly’s doublet. His eagerness made Renly feel guilty and he quickly banished all thoughts of his sister. Tightening his hand in Loras’ hair, he deepened the kiss, forcing his knee between Loras’ legs so that he could push up against him.

He was soon hard and Renly groaned as Loras caught his bottom lip with his teeth, nipping it gently before he kissed the pain away. Loras’ own cock was digging into Renly’s leg now and Loras slid a hand up the back of Renly’s neck and into his hair, pushing his head down.

  
Renly didn’t need to ask what he wanted and he moved his lips from Loras’ as he was bid, kissing the corner of his mouth before he moved his attentions down to Loras’ neck, to the hollow of his throat, to his shoulders. He wanted to leave no spot unkissed but Loras’ hands were still knotted in his hair and they were pushing him further and further down, strong fingers guiding him to where he was wanted.

Renly smiled when he reached Loras’ cock. He could sense Loras’ impatience but he took his time deliberately, taking only the very tip of his cock into his mouth. He enjoyed the power that teasing Loras gave him and he imagined he always would. He liked the way that it made Loras fidget and squirm desperately underneath him, bucking his hips up towards him as if that would make Renly change his mind and give him what he wanted. It was so rare that Loras ever lost his composure and Renly relished every moment of it.

Indeed, he wanted to grin gleefully when Loras eventually resorted to raising his head off the grass. He would have done too if he hadn’t had his mouth around the head of Loras’ cock.

“Hurry up,” Loras panted.

Renly raised his mouth from him. “If you say please,” he grinned.

Loras just rolled his eyes. “You’re marrying my sister tomorrow, you little shit. I shouldn’t _have_ to say please.”

“A very fair point,” Renly agreed hastily, and bowing his head, he took Loras back into his mouth. He sucked him properly this time, focusing on what he knew Loras liked until he’d closed his eyes in pleasure underneath him. It was almost reassuring, Renly found. Tomorrow he would take Margaery to bed, and she would be strange and unfamiliar to him. _Everything_ about Loras was familiar though and Renly took pleasure in the fact that he could have brought Loras to climax in his sleep. He knew how to coax every murmur and sigh out of him, knew how to wind him up until he was clutching desperately at Renly’s hair. Everything was easy and simple with Loras.

Indeed, it wasn’t long at all before Loras _was_ clutching desperately at Renly’s hair and Renly only had to squeeze a little harder with his lips before Loras’ hips were jerking upwards and his seed spilling into Renly’s mouth.

Renly raised his head once he was done and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. “Satisfied?” he asked.

Loras just nodded, clearly still a little dazed. “I shall perhaps have you do that again later,” he murmured. “Seeing as you’re still going to be wedding my sister tomorrow.”

Renly raised an eyebrow, sitting back on his haunches. “Gods, Loras,” he laughed. “You’re going to have me on my knees every day to pay for my grievous crimes, aren’t you?”

“If it pleases me.”

Renly rolled his eyes. “You do realise I’ll be your king?”

Loras had seemingly recovered now and he frowned. “Yes,” he said, staring straight up at the sky. “And what of it?”

Renly tried not to grin. “Well you’ll have to do everything I say.”

“Will I?” Loras sounded almost bored.

Unable not to smile now, Renly lowered himself back down onto his front, pinning Loras to the ground with his chest. “Yes,” he said, rifling a hand through Loras’ hair. “You will have to obey my every whim.”

Loras merely arched an eyebrow, and without any warning, flipped Renly over so that it was him on the ground. “Just like I did when you were my liege lord?” he asked with a smirk.

Renly had to laugh. Summoning his strength, he rolled Loras back over, this time making sure to sit heavily astride his hips so that wouldn’t be able to get up. “Well hopefully you’ll do a little better than you did back then,” he told him. “You were the most insolent squire this liege lord has ever seen.”

Loras didn’t fight this time. He just laughed and beckoned Renly down to kiss him.


	136. Chapter 136

The morning of the wedding dawned bright and sunny without even a cloud in the sky. It was a good omen and Renly found himself smiling from ear to ear as he made his way down to the gardens for breakfast. It was traditional in the Reach for the bride and groom to be given gifts before they were wed and Renly was very much looking forward to it. He enjoyed receiving gifts as much as the next person and he and Alyn had passed a good half an hour that morning speculating on what he might be given.

For the men, breakfast was to be taken in one of Highgarden’s many courtyards, Margaery and her ladies having already nabbed the pretty garden with the two swings.

Margaery had clearly taken the best spot in Highgarden but Renly thought the courtyard almost as pleasing. A fountain trickled quietly under a great cherry tree and tables had been laid out in the dappled shade. They were hung with green velvet tablecloths and laid already with bronze plates.

Many of the men were already there and Renly weaved in and out of his and Mace Tyrell’s bannermen thanking them for coming. He noted with some amusement that those storm lords who had daughters were a little less cheerful than the others. The same could be said of those Reach lords with sons that could have done for Margaery and he was greatly diverted to see the jilted parties coming together, shy daughters of the Stormlands being introduced rather forcefully to the sons of the richer Reach lords. Willas was clearly the most desirable choice despite his gammy leg and Renly smiled to see Red Ronnet and Ser Andrew pushing their sisters almost desperately towards him. Unlike Garlan, he had no wife to shield him from such attentions.

Amused, Renly looked for Loras in the throng of people. He imagined that Loras would be almost as attractive a partner as Willas. Whilst he would inherit no castles, he was worth his weight in gold as a tourney champion. He was disappointed to find though that Loras was nowhere to be seen. He had to wonder whether Loras was breaking with tradition and eating with his sister. It wouldn’t have surprised him.

There was nothing that could be done though and Renly sat down cheerfully as the breakfast was served. It would have been traditional for him to sit with his own family today but as he had none in attendance, it was his bride’s family that he’d been sat with. He found he was quite content with Mace Tyrell on his right and Willas on his left. He supposed too that he’d been a little hasty in assuming Loras wasn’t coming, for Willas and Garlan saved a seat for him in between them.

Indeed, Renly was just helping himself to one final pastry when he saw Loras slip in through one of the stone archways. He had an apologetic look on his handsome face and Renly beamed at him as he sat down between his two brothers and whispered something in Willas’ ear.

Mace Tyrell stood when he saw that Loras was sat down and settled and announced that it was time for the gifts. Lord Tarly was the first to rise and he beckoned his son forward with a magnificent gilded shield that was emblazoned with a stag. Its eyes were picked out in onyx and the crown in golden topaz. Renly thanked him very gladly.

Ser Jon of the green apple Fossoways came next and he presented Renly with a chain of heavy emeralds to hang about his neck. Not to be outdone, Ser Tanton of the red apple Fossoways then gifted a ruby broach in the shape of a swallow. Renly put both on gladly.

He soon lost track of his gifts. From Ser Baelor of Hightower he received a gilded lute carved in Oldtown that he didn’t know how to play; from House Rowan a heavy bronze far-eye for gazing at the stars; from Lady Arwyn Oakheart a supple red leather sword belt; and from the Florents an intricate tapestry that told the story of the legendary Garth Greenhand and his living throne, the Oakenseat. This gift caused a little controversy, Renly saw with some amusement. In the stories Garth Greenhand was the mythical king who had led the First Men across the arm of Dorne. The tapestry of told how he had planted an oak atop a great hill overlooking the Mander and how around it his descendants had raised a beautiful white castle whose turrets almost touched the sky. It hadn’t been until many years later that that castle had become known as Highgarden and its stewards surrendering it to Aegon the Conqueror featured prominently in the lower part of the tapestry. Mace Tyrell stiffened visibly when Lord Alester pointed that sequence out. He clearly saw the gift for what it was: a poorly concealed jibe which pointed to the fact that the Tyrells had no proper place in Highgarden. It was a beautifully made tapestry though and so Renly thanked Lord Alester as if he were ignorant of the constant bickering between the Tyrells and the Florents.

The Merryweathers’ gift was less controversial but also much less interesting; Lord Orton merely presented him with several barrels of the finest wine that their orchards could produce. It was clearly well meant though and Renly wondered whether the poorer calibre of their gift reflected the Merryweathers’ recent fall from grace. Lord Owen, grandfather to the current Lord of Longtable, had once been the Mad King’s Hand. His failure to prevent Robert’s Rebellion had lost him both his title and his lands, and whilst Robert had reinstated him upon ascending to the throne, the House had never recovered its former prosperity. Still, Renly thanked them warmly, promising that he would serve much of it at the wedding feast that evening.

The next was a man bearing a heavy silver goblet who Renly didn’t recognise. He was clad in a rich yellow surcoat and introduced himself as Lord Crane. Though his face was not, his name was instantly familiar to Renly, for he’d heard it before only a short time ago on Margaery’s lips.

“So it is to your son that my good father has entrusted the safety of my bride,” Renly laughed. He remembered Margaery’s disdain at the prospect. Lord Crane seemed cheerful enough though and Renly imagined that Margaery would prefer any son of his to the solemn-faced guard that she had following her around at the moment.

Lord Crane smiled widely; evidently flattered that Renly knew of the plans for his son. “Yes, my lord,” he said proudly. “A good choice if I say so myself. My son is the best sword in the Reach.”

His words were received with an indignant roar. Every man who called himself a knight was up on his feet, jeering loudly. Loras looked insulted and even the good-natured Garlan had stood up in protest, a large grin on face.

Renly placed the silver goblet on the table. “Perhaps we should be holding a melee this evening instead a feast,” he chuckled. There was a little laughter as the men around him agreed and one by one they sat down, allowing Renly to receive Lord Crane’s offering properly.

Only Paxter Redwyne remained standing and he came forward slowly, his shoulders stooped over as usual. Strangely his sons weren’t here and it was alone that he laid a small wooden model of a ship on the table before Renly. It was intricately carved and even had miniature white sails that fluttered in the breeze.

“To celebrate the union of the Stormlands and the Reach,” he said. “I would name her _Lord Renly’s Fury_.”

Renly made to rise to thank him, delighted. It was by far the most lavish gift he’d yet received. He only lamented that she would not be built in time for them to sail on King’s Landing. He supposed the other two hundred warships at Paxter Redwyne’s command would have to do.

“A poor name!” someone at the back cried just as Renly had risen though. “Our lord hasn’t a furious bone in his body.”

Turning, Renly saw with some amusement that it was Ser Gladden, into his cups as usual. His slurred remark had provoked much laughter and Renly had to laugh too. “Oh do sit down, Ser Gladden,” he called. “Or Lord Paxter may make you row the blessed thing.”

There was another burst of laughter and Lord Paxter chuckled, his face wrinkling. “Aye,” he said. “I dare say he’d be too drunk to get it anywhere too.” With a short bow, he returned to his seat.

It was the storm lords’ turn next and their gifts were a little less lavish. Renly supposed that this was to be expected though. His own bannermen’s wealth paled in comparison to that of the Reach and their journey to Highgarden had been much longer; no doubt they’d had little time to commission gifts of such magnificence.

He received them with no less pleasure though. Lord Lester, brother to Ser Guyard, presented him with a doublet so fine that he wished to put it on then and there. Trimmed with soft vair and lined with silk from Qarth, Renly couldn’t help running his hands over it to better appreciate its splendour. He had to laugh too when Ser Guyard promised that he would sing a song in his and Margaery’s honour at the feast later.

Alyn’s grandfather then brought forth a finely crafted dagger with a tortoiseshell hilt and Lord Bryce a leather riding saddle stitched with gold thread. Lord Harwood of House Fell’s gift meanwhile was a thick sable cloak and Lord Peasebury’s a Myrish rug whose blue and green hues were so vibrant that Renly could have believed he was looking upon the sea.

Red Ronnet was next and he presented Renly very proudly with a marble griffin. It was horrendously ugly and Renly thought the only use he’d have for it was if he wanted to drown someone. Tied around someone’s ankles, the monstrous lump of stone would have at least some use. Indeed, as he looked at it, Renly had to wonder whether this was his punishment for taking no interest in Red Ronnet’s sister. All the same, he thanked the knight with enthusiasm. He supposed it would be as good as any blunt weapon to bash Joffrey’s skull in with.

There were many other after that but it was only as he was receiving House Errol’s gift that Renly realised how old many of his bannermen were growing. Lady Shyra Errol was said to be growing ever more frail and she had sent her son to attend the wedding in her stead. Old Lord Grandison the Greybeard had failed to make the journey too and it was his youngest son Ser Narbert who had presented Renly with a chunk of amethyst that had been shaped into a horse.The same was also true of the elderly Lord Penrose though this came as no surprise to Renly. Penrose’s father had been ailing ever since Renly was a child and Renly would have been surprised to see him today. He sat up a little straighter as his castellan approached.

Penrose was ever practical and he gifted Renly with a suit of bronze chainmail, to be worn under plate to protect the joints. It was a well-chosen gift with war on the horizon but Renly laughed. “You clearly have no faith in my guard,” he grinned. “I should be careful or else they will take offence.”

Penrose gave a rare smile and cast a sceptical eye across Ser Guyard, the captain of Renly’s guard. “Aye,” he said. “I dare say Lord Selwyn’s girl would serve you better than this rabble.”

Most of Renly’s guard took this on the chin and merely raised their cups to Penrose with a little amusement; they clearly knew that they had nothing to fear from an ugly maid who liked to bear arms. Ser Guyard, however, was not impressed and he stiffened like a bird with ruffled feathers.

“And I dare say that our lord could walk into a battle _naked_ and emerge without a scratch on him,” he declared. His words were met with a mumble of assent from Loras of all people, who usually disagreed with Ser Guyard on principle. He too had apparently taken Penrose’s words personally- despite not serving Renly in any official capacity, as a member of his guard or otherwise.

Renly laughed heartily. “As right as I’m sure you are, Ser Guyard,” he said. “I think that we shall not be putting that to the test. I imagine I will enjoy Lady Margaery’s kisses a lot more than the kiss of steel.”

That made Loras roll his eyes and Renly grinned at him. He looked around. “Speaking of our Lady of Tarth, where is she?”

Many of his men pointed to one of the tables at the back. Indeed, the Tarth girl was visible there, sat glumly in her father’s shadow. She’d been put back into a dress today and she looked more comfortable than Renly had ever seen anyone look. Her eyes were wide like a fox faced with hounds.

Lord Selwyn stood. “Perhaps if you would allow my daughter to present you with our gift.” He beckoned his daughter forward.

Awkwardly, the maid rose. As she drew herself up to her full height there was a little hushed murmuring; no doubt the Reach Lords were a little taken aback to see a maid who towered half a foot above even the tallest men amongst them. A blush crept into her cheeks as she approached but Renly didn’t think it was anything to do with her ungainly height. Of all the daughters and sisters here, he thought this maid the most disappointed to see him wed.

She looked at the floor as she presented Renly with their gift. It was a large bronze bowl which was embossed with smoothed pieces of sea glass. Renly smiled down at it. Tarth was well known for the strangely coloured pieces of glass; the cargo of any ship that ran aground on the rocks of Shipbreaker Bay would sink with it and pieces of glass would wash up on Tarth’s shores decades later, smoothed and worked by the sea.

“It is beautiful,” Renly declared, turning it this way and that to see the sea glass play with the light.

The maid blushed a little more and Renly had to be a little amused. The maid clearly worshiped him still and Renly was reminded of a jealous squire who had once accused him of pandering to her affections. He made to catch Loras’ eye and was surprised to find that he’d disappeared again.

He didn’t have long to ponder it though. Before the maid’s blush had even faded from her cheeks, Loras had reappeared and this time he had a green rope that was woven with gold in his hand. On the end of it was a large bay horse.

Renly grinned and stood up to have a better look. The horse was a handsome one indeed, strong and sturdy but with an elegant head. He would be proud to have it in his stables.

“A fine creature,” Lord Randyll announced, standing too. “Look at the legs on her.”

Renly weaved in and out of the tables to take the rope out of Loras’ hands. He laid a hand on the horse’s nose.

“And a fine temperament too,” Lord Selwyn agreed.

Willas had risen to his feet too now, leaning heavily on the table for support. “Her sire is the sand steed that Prince Oberyn sent me,” he explained.

There was a chorus of the _finest sire, fastest horse in the land_. Renly grinned. He remembered Willas saying that he would make him a gift of the first foal that the sand steed sired. He had clearly meant what he said.

“I chose the dam,” Loras piped up next to him, clearly determined not to let his brother take all the credit. “She was as black as coal. I had hoped the colour would take.” He looked sceptically at the horse’s bay coat as if it offended him. “It didn’t.”

Renly laughed and patted the mare’s flank. The dam must have been a destrier for she was much broader than the sand steed, more suited to carrying armour than any Dornish mount would be. He supposed her to be at least two years old and it warmed his heart to think of Loras picking a dam out with him in mind all that time ago. He supposed that it had been intended as a name day present.

“She’s magnificent all the same,” he told Loras. “I shall ride her to the feast this afternoon.”

He laid a hand on the bridle. That was as magnificent as the horse itself. Like the rope he was holding, the bridle was woven in gold and green. The gold threads almost sparkled in the sunlight.

“This is glorious too,” he declared.

Garlan stepped forward. “I’m glad,” he laughed. “For my gift matches it.” Stepping up to Renly, he draped a long summer cape over his hands that was as green as emeralds. It felt like water under Renly’s fingers and had the same gold threads running through it.

“It is beautiful, Ser Garlan.” His cloak of black and gold was waiting for him in the sept as it was warm today and Renly fastened the cape around his neck to see how he looked. He was pleased when he was admired from all sides.

He was glad though that it was Garlan who had given him this and not Loras; he imagined that his retinue might have laughed had Loras taken anything vaguely resembling a cloak anywhere near him.

Leaving the cape in place, he beckoned for one of the serving boys to come and take the rope. “If you’d be so kind to take her to the stables,” he said. “Tell the grooms I’ll be wanting her when we leave the sept.”

There was now only Mace Tyrell left to present his gift and he waited until the mare had been led away before he had one of his squires bring it out. Proudly, he then laid a beautiful greatsword on the table before Renly. Its scabbard was gilded and set with emeralds, and when Renly unsheathed it he saw that the hilt was just as magnificent.

“The finest sword I have ever seen,” Renly told him truthfully. It was too heavy to use in battle but he imagined that it would look beautiful laid out somewhere. Indeed, Renly could already imagine it on display in the throne room in King’s Landing.

 

* * *

 

 

The procession to the sept was a merry one. Lord Mace led the way while Renly followed behind, glad to be able to laugh and jest with his men.

“You should be honoured, my lord,” Ser Andrew was saying. “The entire nobility of the Stormlands and the Reach is here today.”

“You flatter me,” Renly said with a wide smile. “There are noticeable absences as well. My brother has snubbed me for one, not that there is any surprise there...” He looked around at the men who were walking with him. “But where is Lord Beric?” he asked. “And Lord Swann? I see only one of his sons here and I refuse to believe him too old to make the journey.”

Ser Guyard stepped up to walk alongside him. “Ser Donnel says that his father is in ill health,” he said.

Ser Gladden snorted, stumbling over his own feet. “What he means is that his father has declared he will have no part in this.”

Renly grinned, running a hand through his hair to better arrange it. “No part in what?” he asked innocently. “It is Lady Margaery that I am wedding. Not Lord Swann.” Inside though, he was a little irritated. He didn’t need Lord Swann’s men but he’d fancied Ser Balon for his Kingsguard. He still remembered Loras disarming the youngest Swann knight when he’d been but fourteen but his talent with a bow was unrivalled.

“And what is Lord Beric’s excuse?” he asked.

It was Loras who spoke this time. “He’s probably still in the Riverlands,” he said miserably. “Bringing Gregor Clegane to justice.”

Renly had forgotten that it was Beric who Stark had sent and he nodded. “And why that tone?” he laughed.

“What tone?” Loras merely shrugged and loped on ahead to join his brothers and his father.

Alyn moved a little closer. “It’s because he asked to be sent,” he said quietly once Loras was far enough ahead.

Renly’s head snapped up. “What?”

“To bring Ser Gregor to justice,” Alyn clarified. “He asked Lord Stark and was refused. Tommas told me. Apparently he was in a rage for days.”

Renly frowned. He was certainly glad that Loras hadn’t been sent but the decision seemed a strange one to him. One did not easily refuse a Tyrell. He was a little amused though that Loras had never told him he’d asked to go. He’d no doubt feared what he’d say.

They’d reached Highgarden’s sept now and Renly stopped outside it. There was no sign yet of Margaery and he preferred to stand outside in the gardens with his companions than in the sept where ribald talk and jesting would be improper.

He was just saying so to Lord Bryce when he caught Penrose looking at him. There was something a little peculiar about his gaze and Renly excused himself to Lord Bryce to take his castellan aside.

“Why are you looking at me so?” he laughed.

Penrose just shook his head a little fondly. “It was nothing, my lord.”

Renly raised an eyebrow. “And you are a liar,” he chuckled. “Go on, tell me what it is.”

Penrose smiled rather wryly and looked Renly up and down from his boots to the top of his head. “Well,” he said heavily. “It may be you giving Margaery your cloak this afternoon but by gods have they made you one of them.”

Renly looked down at himself too, clad in a green cape and wearing Fossoway emeralds around his neck. “There are worse things,” he laughed.


	137. Chapter 137

Renly didn’t think he’d ever felt more handsome than when he stood up with Margaery in the Highgarden Sept. He had his heavy Baratheon cloak about his shoulders, a stag brooch at his throat and the most beautiful daughter of the Reach at his side. Together, he thought, they made a picture worthy of the finest portrait. Margaery hair was long and loose today, cascading down her back in a tumble of curls, and her maiden cloak was a deep emerald, embroidered with the exquisite golden rose of her House. Her skirts were a pale ivory, fanning out behind her like the wings of a swan, and she’d been laced so tightly into her bodice that Renly was surprised she could breathe.

It bared the tops of her breasts too and Renly looked down at her with a little amusement. “I’m surprised they let you in wearing that,” he whispered under his breath. “You shall blind the septon and have every man wishing he wore looser breeches.”

Margaery laughed at that and then had to compose herself rather hastily as the septon appeared upon the dais. He was a jolly fellow though and whilst he blinked a little when he saw Margaery from the front, he pronounced her very beautiful before he turned to address their guests.

Renly couldn’t help but smile as he and Margaery repeated the seven vows and seven promises. The wedding song seemed to soar through the rafters and he clasped Margaery’s hand proudly as he heard Mace Tyrell’s voice rise above the others. This was clearly all he’d ever wanted for his daughter. Renly was unsurprised; she would no doubt be queen within the year.

It was only when the challenge echoed out through the sept that Renly stopped smiling. It was impossible but he almost expected Loras to raise an objection. There was only silence though and Renly squeezed Margaery’s fingers again as the Septon asked for the cloak bearers to rise.

Mace Tyrell looked a little choked with emotion as he climbed the dais to remove Margaery’s maiden cloak. Very gently, he unfastened the green fabric from around Margaery’s neck, a hand going to her hair with all the affection that a father could show.

Alyn meanwhile had appeared on Renly’s left side to hand up the bride’s cloak, acting for once not as his squire but as an Estermont and one of Renly’s cousins. The cloak was a rich charcoal like Renly’s own and Renly shook it out with a flourish, the golden embroidered stag shimmering in the rainbow light of the seven. Proudly, he bent to fasten it around Margaery’s neck, sweeping her hair to the side so that it would not get caught. And just like that, she belonged to him now.

“With this kiss I pledge my love,” Margaery told him with a smile, reaching up to cup his neck. “And take you for my lord and husband.”

Renly placed his hands on her waist. “With this kiss I pledge my love,” he repeated back to her. “And take you for my lady and wife.” Blinded by the rainbow light of the septon’s crystal which had been raised high above their heads, Renly lifted her gently by the waist so that they could kiss.

The cheers were deafening and Renly lowered her gently to the ground as the septon pronounced them of one flesh, one heart and one soul. They could turn now to face their guests and Renly looked instantly for Loras in the crowd. It wasn’t hard, as he was sat in the front row, and Renly searched his face. He had a smile on his face but it was rather blank, and whilst he was looking right at them, Renly didn’t think he was actually seeing them. The expression on his face was wistful somehow and Renly suspected that he was far away, lost in his own thoughts or in memories. He supposed that it was to be expected; Loras set little store by the faith but he’d have probably given anything to be told that he and Renly were one.

There was no time to dwell on that though and Renly grinned as he led Margaery from the sept, her cousins scattering golden rose petals in their path. Lord Mace and Lady Alerie came after them, followed closely by Garlan and Leonette, and finally Loras who supported his frail grandmother. Of all his new family, only Willas stayed seated. He should have come after his mother and father and yet would not be able to keep up with the wedding procession.

The sun was still shining brightly when they stepped out of the sept and Renly stood on the steps with a smile as he waited to receive the congratulations of all his guests. His new good-father kissed them first, bumbling on about all the fat grandchildren he soon expected. Lady Alerie was next with tears in her eyes, and after her Garlan who kissed them both twice and remarked what a handsome couple they made.

Renly hesitated as Margaery’s grandmother approached to congratulate them. He had spoken to Lady Olenna little during his stay in Highgarden and the little old lady still put him on his guard.

“Let us hope that your children do not take after your father,” she said to Margaery as she pressed a kiss to her unblemished cheek. “Let us hope they have Willas’ wit, Loras’ valour and your beauty.”

“And what of me?” Renly laughed, bending too so that he could be kissed.

“Why,” the old lady said dryly. “They shall have your name. It is the greatest honour that a father can bestow on his child. So many children are left nameless in this world.”

Renly wasn’t sure what to make of that but he thought it was meant fondly and so he smiled as Lady Olenna kissed him on both cheeks with her wrinkled lips.

He sighed though as he straightened up. Loras was the next in line and he was already approaching them a little wearily. He kissed Margaery first, seemingly very fondly, and yet seemed a little hesitant as he turned to face Renly.

Renly lowered his eyes as Loras kissed him. It was more a bump of cheeks than anything and yet Renly thought it couldn’t have felt stranger. He’d spent years trying to keeping his hands off Loras whilst outside the safety of their chambers and letting Loras kiss him openly here on the steps of the sept jarred against every instinct he possessed. He was torn between wanting to slap him away and wanting to tilt his head so that he could kiss him properly with an open mouth.

“May you be blessed with happiness,” Loras told them quietly once he’d kissed Renly’s other cheek. He dared to meet Renly’s eye then and to his credit he managed a small smile before he turned to let others behind him take their turn.

Renly watched him go a little sadly but then he was bending again to let Margaery’s young cousins kiss him. They were a little _too_ enthusiastic perhaps and by the time they were finished Renly reckoned that they’d kissed him a dozen times. His cheek actually felt a little sore.

It seemed to take an age before every guest had congratulated them and Renly’s stomach was rumbling audibly by the time that Willas had finally hobbled out of the sept to take his place last in the line.

“Might we forever grow strong,” Willas told them as he leant heavily on his stick. His voice was contemplative somehow but he kissed Renly as fondly as Garlan had.

“Thank you,” Renly laughed. “It is wiser to grow strong than to be forever furious perhaps.”

Willas smiled at that and together they descended the steps of the sept to join the throng of other guests. Peering through the lords and ladies, Renly was pleased to see that the Highgarden grooms had brought the bay mare as he’d asked. She’d been saddled with the red leather that Lord Bryce had gifted him and roses had been woven into her mane. He had no intention of riding her himself at the present moment, for it was only a short walk to the gardens where they would feast but he imagined that Margaery would look splendid on her.

“Here,” he said softly to Margaery. Lifting her from the hips this time, he settled her in the fine leather saddle, fanning out her bride’s cloak so that it fell across the horse’s flanks. She was only a small girl and she would need to be seen by every single one of the lords and ladies who followed behind them.

 

* * *

 

 

The feast was held just beyond the inner walls, in the castle’s largest garden. The tables had been laid out under ivory silk pavilions to shade them from the afternoon sun and hung with beautiful Myrish lace dipped in gold. Renly and Margaery would start off on the high table with her mother and father but at Margaery’s suggestion it had been agreed that they would move to a different table every few courses to better get round their many many guests. Renly thought it a lovely idea. He didn’t particularly want to be bored by Mace Tyrell all evening and it gave at least the appearance of humility. He thought it best too that he was parted from Loras. Conversation was always so easy with him and Renly thought that his full attention needed to be on Margaery for once. It would not do for his guests to notice that he spent more time speaking to his good-brother than to his bride.

The food was delicious. They started with honeyed duck and dates soaked in white wine on the high table. With the Florents and the Rowans they had lamb roasted with mint and a sweetgrass and fennel salad; with the Hightowers oxtail soup and summer greens; and with the Estermonts and Errols a slice of hare pie garnished with radish and lemon. The courses seemed never-ending and several times Renly had to tug the laces on Margaery’s bodice just a little looser.

“You know,” he said to her as they sat down with the Cuys and were presented with a thick broth of tarragon and venison. “At this rate they won’t need to undress you for the bedding. I shall have loosened your laces so much that you shall already be naked.”

Margaery just smiled sweetly at him. “Well then stop feeding me so much food off your own plate,” she laughed. “And anyway, you’ve promised to have me forever now. Even if I end up as fat as our Megga over there.”

Renly snorted. Megga was one of Margaery’s younger cousins and yet three times the size of her. She could easily be described as very fat and very jolly. When Loras had been pointing out his cousins for Alyn, he hadn’t even bothered to list that one as she was so plump.

The heat was less strong now and Renly turned to watch as the servants temporarily abandoned the food to come and unlace the silk from the pavilion frames so that they could bathe in the sun’s remaining warmth. Most were taken down without a hitch but Renly had to laugh along with everyone else as the servants lost their grip on the fabric above the high table and accidentally trailed much of it through Lady Alerie’s peppercrab stew. Joffrey would have probably had the culpable servant hanged, Renly thought, but here everyone was too merry to care.

For indeed, Lord Merryweather had made good on his promise to serve many flagons of Longtable’s finest wines. Arbour vintages too were brought out by the barrel and all of it proved to be very drinkable. As was typical in the Reach, the wines were sweet and heady, a rich blend of summer fruits and oak. They were deceptively strong though and by the time that Renly and Margaery were even halfway through the guests he was starting to feel just a little drunk.

He was not alone. Garlan had drunk so much that he’d squeezed Leonette’s bottom under the table and made her squeal in fright; Ser Tanton was apparently so grateful for the Longtable vintages that he had tried to seduce Lord Merryweather’s Myrish wife before vomiting several times into the flowerbed. Lord Eldon Estermont meanwhile had excused himself to go to the privy and then managed to forget where he was sitting.

It soon mattered not. Renly and Margaery had set a precedent and as the desserts began to be served and everyone became merrier and merrier, men and women alike began moving between tables to sit with whosever’s company they desired. Lady Alerie had joined her brothers and sisters, Garlan and Leonette had migrated to the Fossoways, and Randyll Tarly to the Florents. Red Ronnet had quickly guided his sister to the table with the most eligible young men and even Penrose had moved to sit with Lord Selwyn and his very subdued daughter.

The last few desserts were being served when Renly finally managed to sit down with his own retinue. They hadn’t all started off on one table but they had largely all grouped together now, the desserts long forgotten in favour of the honeyed wine that was being poured out in cups so large that just one would be enough to make a lady faint.

The sun was disappearing now and Renly wrapped an arm around Margaery’s shoulders as they sat down. “I know that you have met Alyn but have you met the rest of my men, Margaery?” he asked.

“I wish,” Ser Gladden slurred from across the table. If he’d been drunk at breakfast, he was now so into his cups that even Robert would have looked sober next to him.

“Ser Gladden is one of the finest swords in my retinue, believe it or not,” Renly laughed as Margaery tucked herself into his side. Indeed, Renly had very much considered naming him to the captain of his guard at one point; it was his excessive drinking which had swayed him on the matter, that and Loras’ poor opinion of him.

“I am honoured,” Margaery said, extending her hand to be kissed.

“That’s brave, my lady,” Ser Narbert muttered. “He’ll just slobber all over you. If he even finds your hand that is.”

Ser Gladden _had_ found Margaery’s hand and he kissed it so many times that Renly had to pull her hand back and roll his eyes. “And this is Ser Narbert,” he told Margaery. “The youngest son of Lord Grandison.”

Recognition dawned on Margaery’s face. “Oh,” she said with a shy smile. “It is with you that my brother once lost his temper, is it not? We did try to train it out of him as a child but I’m afraid we quite failed.”

Her tones could have melted butter and a lolling smile appeared on Ser Narbert’s face. “The matter is quite forgotten,” he told her with a slightly dazed expression. “I barely even remember it, my lady.”

The other men snorted and Renly almost spat out a mouthful of honeyed wine. They all knew that the matter had certainly _not_ been forgotten. Loras and Ser Narbert still hated each other with a bitterness worthy of winter’s chill and Renly imagined that if he locked the two of them together in a room for more than five minutes, only one of them would emerge alive.

He did not tell Margaery this though and instead he turned to Ser Guyard. “I believe you promised me a song, Ser,” he laughed. “Unless I am so drunk that I dreamt it.”

“You certainly did not dream it, my lord,” Ser Guyard told him, rising very unsteadily to his feet and almost spilling his wine as he thumped back into his seat.

“And?” Renly prompted. “Have you prepared one? My dear wife does love singing.”

“Let’s hope she loves fools too,” Ser Andrew jested.

Ser Guyard didn’t seem to hear Ser Andrew’s comment, for he was busy turning a little pink. “No, my lord,” he said. “I have not yet prepared one.”

Ser Andrew snorted next to him. “What he means to say, my lord, is that he’s prepared several and that none of them are suitable for your lady wife’s ears.”

Margaery smiled rather sweetly at that though there was a wicked glint in her eye that Renly thought only he saw. “I shall leave you men to your talk then,” she said, pressing a kiss to Renly’s cheek and rising. “If my eyes don’t deceive me, my brother is making a fool of himself with his wife again. Perhaps I shall fetch my grandmother to knock some sense into him with her cane.”

Renly and his men turned to where she was pointing and indeed, Garlan had Leonette on his lap now and he was feeding her morsels of blackberry tart from his fingers. His other hand rested on her thigh and he seemed to be rubbing her leg through her dress.

“It’ll be up her skirts soon,” Margaery told him. Bending, she kissed Renly again before she disappeared to find her grandmother.

“So,” Renly chuckled, turning back to Ser Guyard. “Now that you’ve send my bride running for the hills I would hear your song if it please you.”

Ser Guyard cleared his throat. “It is more of a limerick than a song,” he laughed. “For I do not have my lute with me.”

He opened his mouth to start but was interrupted by Alyn rising suddenly to his feet. “Oh please don’t,” he said. “It is embarrassing and I’m sure our lord does not wish to hear it.”

Guyard ignored him.

_They was a young girl from the Reach_   
_Whose arse was as ripe as a peach_   
_Her lord called her a friend_   
_But back in Storm’s End_   
_He fucked her clean on the beach_

Renly let out a laugh. He wondered how many cups of wine Ser Guyard had had before he had imagined that one up.

“I shouldn’t like to,” he chuckled. “The beach at Storm’s End is terribly rocky.” He turned to Alyn. “But I gather this wasn’t the one you were fearing?”

“Oh it was,” Alyn said hastily. “I just thought it rather rude and uncouth.”

Renly wasn’t fooled by his words. “You liar,” he grinned. He looked at his men. “The boy lies, does he not?”

“He does,” Ser Guyard confirmed, his aim poor as he poured himself another cup of mead from the flagon and missed his cup entirely. “I shall sing the other for you.” He rose to his feet and his voice rang out louder this time.

_There was a young girl dressed in white_   
_Who pleasured her husband all night_   
_She rode him till dawn_   
_And when it was morn_   
_The lord’s squire near died of fright_

Renly almost spat out his drinks. “Ah Alyn,” he said, thumping the boy on the back as the other men guffawed. “Don’t fret. I shall lock the door tonight.”

Alyn merely nodded glumly, his cheeks tinged with pink. “Yes, my lord,” he said. “Please do.”

Renly smiled at him and got to his feet. “Though perhaps for the moment, you might like to help me find my wife now that Ser Guyard has sung for me.” He poured another cup of honeyed wine for himself. It was only a short walk to the other tables but he didn’t want to undertake it without a drink in his hand. It was too good an evening for that.

“You know, my lord,” Alyn said as he followed him to the Fossoway’s table where Margaery was now sat. “Neither of those were the men’s favourite.”

Renly grinned. He liked the sound of this one; it was clearly inappropriate even for his ears. “What was the favourite then?”

“I’m not sure I can remember it.”

“And that is the second time you have lied to me tonight,” Renly laughed, taking a long drink of his wine.

Alyn’s cheeks flushed a little more. “All right,” he said, “but if you’re absolutely sure you want to hear it?”

“I’m as sure as you are a liar.”

Alyn opened his mouth.

_There was a young girl of a lord_   
_Who found herself ever so bored._   
_Her husband ignored her_   
_Even though he adored her_   
_So her brother ran him through with his sword._

Renly snorted; he ought to have suspected that it would be something like that. “Well Loras does have quite the temper,” he said lightly.

“Yes, but I’m not quite sure that’s what they were getting at.”

Renly rolled his eyes. He didn’t need to be told that. “You don’t say,” he chuckled. “I suppose I should commend Ser Guyard though for his wit. It’s cleverer than he usually appears to be.”

They’d reached the Fossoway’s table now and Renly saw Alyn hesitate. Turning, Renly saw exactly why. A girl in dusky pink silk with curly hair had caught his eye and was beckoning him over. It was Aelinor, that cousin of Loras and Margaery’s who Renly had often seen slipping from Alyn’s bedchamber of late.

Go on,” Renly said, giving him a push. “You don’t have to follow me. Go and sit with her at her table.”

Alyn’s ears turned pink. He seemed reluctant to join her whilst she was sat with her family. “But…”

“Well why wouldn’t you?” Renly laughed. “She’s very pretty.” It was no lie. Aelinor had long curly hair and wore dresses that would make even Margaery blush. It was no wonder that Loras said she was long ruined.

“Not as pretty as your bride,” Alyn mumbled, staring down at his shoes.

“Well no,” Renly agreed. “But my bride _has_ to let me bed her tonight. You might have to work a little harder.”

Alyn grinned at that but didn’t move regardless and so Renly gave him another push. He then watched with a little amusement as Alyn sat down on her left-hand side. He was pounced on almost immediately by her father and Renly thought it was no surprise. If she had dallied with as many men as was rumoured, any man who took a serious interest would be welcome, let alone the heir to Greenstone.

It was only when he was settled in conversation that Renly continued on to the Fossoway table. Smiling, he sat back down next to Margaery, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. Even with her laces loosened, she was easily the most beautiful girl in attendance.

“I see Garlan has been made to behave,” he said with a chuckle. Indeed, Leonette was sat on her own chair now and it looked like someone had taken away Garlan’s cup of wine. Lady Olenna watched over them both with her beady eyes.

“Yes,” Margaery said. “He’ll have the bruise from grandmother’s stick by morning.”

“Aye,” Garlan agreed, his words a little slurred. “Right where it hurts. I dare say you were trying to geld me, grandmother?”

Renly was just forming a reply to that when a figure appeared at Garlan’s shoulder. He was more pleased than he ought to have been to see that it was Loras and he patted the seat next to him with rather a little too much excitement.

“Where have you been all evening?” he asked when Loras consented to sit down beside him.

Loras shrugged. “Eating,” he said dimly.

He sounded a little subdued and pitying him, Renly put his hand on his thigh under the table. Loras glanced up at that and he managed a smile, reaching down to squeeze Renly’s fingers. It was an affectionate gesture and had it been any other feast but the one for his wedding, Renly would have suggested that they leave early and occupy themselves in other pursuits. He looked beautiful tonight and Renly longed to touch him, to hold him tight until morning.

Perhaps Loras knew this, for he seemed to rally a little. “Though,” he said a little more brightly in a tone that was clearly for Renly’s benefit. “I would much rather have been dancing. Why is it taking so long?”

Renly grinned at him. “What does that have to do with me?” he asked. “You may dance if you like.”

Loras shrugged. “Yes, but you and Margaery should be leading.”

Renly had forgotten that and he got up to his feet with a laugh. “My lady,” he said to Margaery, guiding her up despite the fact that she was deep in conversation with one of her cousins. “Might we lead the first dance now?”

If Loras wanted to dance then Renly would see to it that the musicians played for him.


	138. Chapter 138

Renly didn’t know how many dances he danced with Margaery but his feet were aching a little when he finally relinquished her to another partner and sat back down at one of the tables. The desserts had been cleared now but there were still flagons aplenty of wine and Renly refreshed himself gladly. Dancing had left his throat dry and parched.

Margaery was dancing with her father now and Renly watched her skirts twirl rather absent-mindedly as he nursed his drink. She was still wearing her bride’s cloak and it flew out behind her like the wings of a great raven when she spun. It was pretty to watch and Renly found himself rather mesmerised by it.

“Beautiful isn’t she?” a small voice said from behind him.

Renly didn’t need to turn round to see who it was. “I thought you were desperate to dance,” he laughed.

Loras shrugged. “This is the first time you’ve been alone all evening. Forgive me if I want to sit awhile with you.”

Renly patted the chair next to him.

“Besides,” Loras added as he poured a cup of wine for himself and another for Renly. “We’re brothers now. We should be getting to know each other a little better.”

Renly rolled his eyes. “Loras,” he said. “If I get to know you any better, I think I’ll turn into you.”

Loras said nothing to that and together they watched the next few dances in silence. It was a comfortable enough silence though and Renly was rather glad for it. He’d been making polite conversation all evening and it was almost a relief to be sat next to someone who wouldn’t think less of him if he didn’t string three sentences together every minute or so.

He was onto his third cup of wine and his second helping of mead when their silence was interrupted. It was only Penrose though and Renly grinned at him. His castellan’s company was always welcome.

“Will you sit down and have a drink?” he asked. He reached for the flagon of the wine on the table and fumbled around for it until Loras nudged it into his hand.

“No, I shan’t stay,” Penrose said with a fond shake of his head. “I just came to see how you are faring, my lord. You looked awfully still.”

Renly grinned up at him. “Never better.”

Penrose rolled his eyes and turned to Loras. “He’s drunk,” he said. “Make sure he doesn’t have anymore.”

Loras shrugged, clearly unimpressed at being given an order. “As you wish,” he muttered. Irritably, he pulled the flagon of wine out of Renly’s hand and set it back on the table with a loud thump.

He waited until Penrose’s back was turned before turning to Renly. “Give it to me then,” he said, pointing at the cup of mead in Renly’s hand. “Penrose says you’re to have no more and as much as I hate to admit it, he’s right.”

“I did hear him you know,” Renly laughed, tightening his grip on his cup. “I’m seeing double but I can still hear very soundly.”

Loras nodded. “I know you heard,” he agreed. “So will you give it to me or do I have to wrestle it out of your hand? Because you know I’ll win.”

Renly grinned at him. “Just this last cup,” he said. “This one is flavoured with blackberries and I haven’t yet tried it. And truly, I’m not even that far into my cups.”

Loras raised an eyebrow. “Yes you are,” he told him rather firmly. "If you have much more, you won’t be able to stand.”

Renly’s grin widened. “Well who needs to stand? I’m to be _carried_ to my bedchamber, Loras.” Defiantly, he took a sip of the dark liquid. It was sweet and tangy on the tongue, a perfect combination.

Loras snorted though and pulled the mead out of his grip before Renly could open his mouth to argue again. “Here,” he said, passing a cup of water in its place. “Drink. If you vomit on my sister at the bedding, I shan’t ever forgive you.”

Renly rolled his eyes but took a sip anyway. He wasn’t that drunk- not truly- but he didn’t want to ruffle Loras’ feathers by refusing.

He’d just drained the cup when Margaery appeared at his shoulder. “I thought I should warn you,” she laughed breathlessly, her cheeks pink from dancing. “Father said we shall have the bedding after the next dance and my cousins are already talking of how they will undress you.”

Renly grinned and wrapped an arm around her waist. “I shall fare,” he said.

Loras must have agreed for he nodded. “You under-estimate how vain your new husband is, Margaery,” he said. “If he could parade naked through Highgarden every day, he very well might.”

Renly laughed. “Guilty as charged, Ser Loras.” He rose to his feet and perhaps Loras had spoken truer than Renly had realised when he’d accused him of being a little into his cups. His legs felt just a little unsteady underneath him and he had to grip the edge of the table for balance.

He had just turned to look for Mace Tyrell when he heard his booming voice. He’d clearly drunk a lot too for his words were a little slurred as he laughed and gestured over to where Renly and Margaery were standing.

The men were quicker on the uptake than the women. Renly barely had time to blink before Ser Tanton had appeared in his peripheral vision and was lunging at Margaery. He was more than just a little into his cups though and he tripped over his own feet clumsily, a large _rip_ accompanying his fall as Margaery’s bodice tore down the seam, seed pearls scattering everywhere as he landed face-first in the dirt.

“Well I shan’t be wearing this dress again,” Margaery laughed, wrapping her bride’s cloak round her to cover herself up.

It was a vain effort; even as she spoke she’d been swept into the air by one of the Cuy brothers. He had her over his shoulder and Ser Denys Redwyne was already behind him pushing up her skirts so that they hung over her head and pinching her bottom.

The last Renly saw of her was her silken smallclothes before it was his turn. A veritable hoard of women was rounding on him and Renly glanced at Loras rather helplessly as one of them pulled at the leg of his breeches and tried to lift his leg.

“You’re on your own,” Loras shrugged. Getting to his feet, he disappeared after his sister. Renly had to laugh. He couldn't imagine Loras taking too well to the drunken group of men putting their lecherous hands all over his precious sister as they stripped off her clothes.

The women were trying to lift Renly’s other leg now and he got the wind knocked out of him as he lost his balance and toppled to the floor. He’d drunk too much for it to hurt, however, and he just laughed as the women took hold of an arm and leg each and tried to haul him up. He could see Red Ronnet’s sister on his left and Ser Andrew’s sister on his right but otherwise all the women grappling with his limbs seemed to be of the Reach. Elinor and Megga Tyrell were at his left leg, pulling rather ineffectually at his boot, while Alla and Lady Desmera Redwyne were heaving from his cloak, almost strangling him.

It took the help of another three girls before they managed to hoist him off the ground and even then they only managed to lift him a few inches.

“Too many pies, my lord,” Ser Andrew called as Renly thumped to the ground again. He wasn’t the only one to fall though. Margaery’s cousins had succeeded in pulling his boot off but they’d put so much weight behind it that they’d toppled over backwards like dominos as soon as it had come free.

They were back up soon though and they’d just resumed their rather useless tugging at his other boot when a large booming laugh rang out.

“Gods,” Garlan said, his face swimming into view above Renly as he peered down. “If you’re this slow, ladies, my sister may well be old and wrinkled before you get him out of this garden.”

Bending, he grasped Renly under his arms and heaved him up, ushering girls in quickly to take his place. “Now don’t let go of him this time,” he told them. Slapping Renly on the shoulder, he left them to it.

They coped better now that Renly was off the ground and with the addition of two of the Hightower girls and Lord Merryweather’s Myrish wife, they managed to get him up to shoulder height. Short as most of them were, it still felt rather precarious and Renly thought he was going to fall with every step. It was merry enough though and he had to grin as he felt delicate fingers prodding him in every place imaginable. Lady Desmera was raking her nails across his neck as she tried to get his cloak unfastened and the fat and jolly Megga had unlaced his breeches to thrust a pudgy hand down them. Only Lady Taena was making any actual headway with his clothes; she clearly had experience in undressing men and she had made short work of his doublet, nimble fingers seeing to the fastenings with ease. Opening it, she ran her hands through the hair on his chest and Renly braced himself to fall again as the girls jostled underneath him, trying to tug his arms through the sleeves.

Looking ahead, Renly could see that Garlan had been exaggerating about much further Margaery had already been carried. She was only ten or so yards ahead of them and whilst she’d lost her dainty slippers and her dress was now ripped all the way through the skirts too, she still had her small-clothes to protect her modesty. Renly grinned to see that most of his own men were amongst the group crowding round her, watching hungrily as more of her dress was torn off. Ser Gladden was taking the most liberties and Renly saw Garlan yank his hand up by the wrist when he tried to squeeze Margaery’s breast.

There was no sign of Loras though and ignoring Megga’s quip about how much hairier he was than her nine year old brother, he craned his head to try and spot him.

It didn’t take him long. He was a little behind Margaery and he had a large piece of her dress over her arm and both of her satin slippers dangling from his hand. He’d stopped by a discarded cloak that lay pooled on the ground and Renly wished he’d never looked for him. It was only a piece of fabric that lay on the floor, muddied now with footprints, but Loras clearly wanted it; that much was evident to see. There was undisguised longing on his face and Renly watched rather sadly as he picked it up off the floor and dusted it off a little lovingly. Renly had to wonder what he was thinking.

A squeal from Margaery jerked his head up from the cloak though and Renly was relieved to see that it wiped the wistful expression from his face rather quickly. Draping the cloak over his arm, he hurried off after them, stepping over the crumpled heap of ivory silk that was the remnants of the rest of his sister’s dress; clearly he didn’t think that worth picking up. He disappeared through an archway in the walls then but Renly could hear him snapping at several of the men who were apparently taking the bedding ceremony too far.

The women carrying Renly were apparently inspired, however, by Margaery’s squeals and two of them pulled his breeches roughly down over his hips. His small-clothes were next and Renly winced as Megga grasped at his cock.

“Gentle!” Renly cried. “May the gods have mercy on any husband you ever have.”

The girls merely giggled beneath him but the next woman to grope him was gentler, her hands soft as she clutched at him. Renly felt his cock spring to a little to life under her grip.

“And it’s as large as the rest of him,” Lady Desmera shrieked.

Renly grinned; he remembered once fearing that his cock would not respond to the touch of a woman but it seemed that a hand was a hand even if he did not find the body attached to it particularly rousing.

They’d reached the inner walls now and Renly could see Margaery on the steps ahead of him. She was in Loras’ arms now and she was naked, her small-clothes lying in a heap at the bottom of the stairs. Loras had her cradled to his chest rather tightly, one arm under her knees and the other around her shoulders. Renly had to admire how strong he looked carrying her. She looked weightless in his arms and she didn’t even have her hands around his neck; instead her hands were clutched to her chest, covering her small breasts as the men surrounding her tried to pry her fingers away and pinch them.

Red Ronnet was the first to manage it and Renly laughed loudly as he saw Loras shift Margaery’s weight slightly so that he could hit him in the face with one of her slippers. Even he didn’t have enough hands to protect her from all of the men’s touches though and Margaery writhed in his arms as the men slid hands up her legs and tried to part them. Many of the guilty men were Renly’s own and Renly grinned as he saw that even Alyn had placed a rather cautious hand on her knee.

It did not go unnoticed though and Loras whipped round to face him “Don’t you try it,” he warned him. “Lord Renly tells me how inappropriate your thoughts are concerning my sister.”

Renly just had time to witness the way Alyn’s cheeks flushed red before his own escort had reached the stairs. They floundered on the first step though and Renly soon found he was no longer being carried. Instead he was limping up stair after stair with his breeches round his ankles, being pushed and pulled simultaneously by the women around him.

They caught up with the group of men at the top of the stairs. They were crowded round a door and Renly imagined that Margaery was now behind it. They parted as the girls dragged Renly though but they weren’t nice enough to not mock him.

“Very handsome, my lord,” Ser Guyard called with a glance at the velvet breeches round Renly’s ankles. “It suits you.”

Renly just swore at him loudly.

The door was barred from the inside when the ladies tried to open it but once they’d banged a few times on it and shrieked rather a lot, there was the sound of movement inside. It was Loras who opened it but Renly only caught sight of him briefly as he ducked under Lady Taena’s arm to join the rest of the men outside. He certainly didn’t let Renly catch his eye and Renly was rather glad. He didn’t think Loras would have much appreciated seeing his fat cousin touch him in places that Loras no doubt regarded as his.

Margaery was under the covers when Renly was dragged inside the bedchamber, the sheets drawn up almost to her shoulders to protect her modesty. That was probably Loras' doing, Renly expected; no doubt it was some attempt to shield her from the wandering eyes of any man who made it past the door and inside. She was grinning at him though, her curls tumbling over her exposed shoulders. Unlike some brides, she clearly hadn’t been scared witless by being stripped naked.

Her eyes widened though when she saw where her fat cousin’s hands were. “Megga!” she laughed. “That is my _husband_ that you are groping.”

“Can you blame her?” Elinor giggled, squeezing Renly’s thigh. “She’s so fat she’ll never find a husband.”

There was much laughter at that and the ladies wasted no time in pushing Renly towards the bed. Heaving at his legs again, they tumbled into it and Renly heard Margaery scream as he landed on top of her. For a moment, Renly drunkenly thought that he’d irreparably squashed her but then she was giggling- a sure sign that she wasn’t dead.

“You’re supposed to bed her, my lord,” Lady Taena purred as she scratched at his back. “Not _suffocate_ her.”

Renly laughed rather helplessly as hands again grasped him and heaved him off Margaery, rolling him clumsily onto his side. “Well you can’t blame me,” he protested as his head spun. “It was you ladies who put me here.”

There was more giggling and together Alla and Megga heaved the bedclothes out from underneath Renly and laid them over him.

“There,” they said as one. “Now you can bed her.”

They showed no sign of leaving and rolling his eyes, Renly reached under the sheets to untangle his breeches from his legs. His hands were a little clumsy from the wine and it took him a good few moments to untwist them. Grinning, he then chucked them at the nearest one of Margaery’s cousins, pleased when it made them jump.

“Here,” he said. “Keep them.”

The door was pushed open again then and Garlan swept into the room. “Ladies, ladies,” he sighed. “At this rate Lord Renly will be bedding all of you and we can’t have that.”

“But we want to watch!” Megga said. She was bouncing on her toes in excitement, her plump chin wobbling in the candle light.

“There will be no watching,” Garlan laughed.

“Well can we at least _listen?”_

Garlan’ eyebrows waggled and he shook his head. “No,” he said, taking Megga by the arm and steering her firmly outside. “You’ve had your fun. Now father says we’re to give them their privacy.” Picking up the breeches from the floor, he shook them at them. “Now off with you. All of you.” When there was no movement his grin widened. “You know,” he said, “Ser Tanton is waiting at the bottom of the stairs and he’s declared that he’ll kiss the last girl down whether they want him to or not...”

There was much squealing at that and they all hurried out of the door in their haste to leave. Renly could understand why. Ser Tanton was always drunk at feasts and he’d vomited into the flowerbeds only a few hours ago.

Garlan looked rather proud at how he’d cleared the room. That was until he saw movement behind one of the drapes. Striding across the room, he drew the curtains back with a flourish. “Elinor,” he laughed. “I didn’t know you were so in love with Ser Tanton.” He waved her out too, helping her along with several not-so-gentle pushes to her backside.

“Is he actually down there?” Margaery asked, sitting up a little with the covers pulled up to her neck.

Garlan grinned at her, his eyes gleaming. “Would I lie?” he asked innocently. He retreated then back towards the open doorway. “Enjoy yourselves. And I might lock this behind me if I were you.” With a wink, he disappeared.

The door shut heavily behind him and Renly closed his eyes. The thick wood blocked out most of the noise from downstairs and the quiet was a relief. Whether from the wine or from all the squealing, his head was pounding. He didn’t even notice Margaery hopping out of bed to bar the door and he only realised she’d got up when he felt the bed dip as she climbed back in beside him.

Gently, she laid a hand on Renly’s arm. “Shall we then?” she asked.

The thought of bedding anyone made Renly feel a little queasy and he groaned. “Give me a few moments.”

“Loras said you were too drunk.”

“And he is right,” Renly laughed, rolling over and stretching. Flat on his back the world seemed to spin even more. He felt rather like he was lying on the deck of a boat.

“Come here though,” he yawned. Reaching out, he looped an arm around her and pulled her to him. She wasn’t Loras but she was warm and solid and it was nice enough to have her pressed into his side. She had a tremendous amount of curly hair too and Renly ran a hand through it absent-mindedly. It felt much like Loras’ except that the strands didn’t end where he expected them to.

She sighed against his chest as he stroked her hair and Renly smiled. “Are you happy?” he asked.

“Yes.” There was no hesitation in her voice and Renly had to laugh. It was clear that he’d wed a girl who was just as ambitious as himself. He felt an odd rush of fondness for her then and he guided her onto his chest so that he could hold her properly. Her breasts felt strange pressed up against him but it was her weight which seemed most odd to him. She seemed as light as a feather and had he not put her there himself, he might not have noticed she was there.

They lay there together for some time, Renly listening to her breathing against him. It was rather hypnotic and it was very tempting to just knot his hand in her hair and let himself sleep. That was a decision he knew he’d regret though in the morning and so he pushed the sheets down from Margaery’s shoulders, letting them pool at her waist.

“Come on then,” he laughed softly. “Let us finish this.” The words came out of his mouth easier than he would have expected. He had always suspected that he would be a little apprehensive when he took his wife to bed but in his imaginings it had always been a faceless woman whom he would need to impress. With Margaery, however, there was no need to pretend that he had been desperate to fuck her all evening.

Hands finding her waist and tightening there, he flipped her over. He was a little taken aback when she giggled.

“What?” he asked, peering down at her.

Margaery smiled up at him, hair fanned out behind her across the pillow in a tangled mess. “It tickles.”

Renly smiled too. That surprised him. Loras wasn’t ticklish in the slightest and he wouldn’t have expected Margaery to be either. He guessed that it was the first of many differences between the siblings that he would notice tonight and sitting up a little, he supposed that he should have a good long look at the wife he’d taken.

Gently, he pulled the covers back off her. He’d never really had cause to study a naked woman before but he did so now. Her shoulders were slim and narrow and her breasts round. Her nipples were a dusky pink and her waist seemed almost exaggerated next to the curve of her hips. This was what men wanted a woman to look like and Renly smiled as he stared down at her. Even he could see that his bride was beautiful.

“What are you thinking?” Margaery whispered. A very slight blush had crept into her cheeks and she trembled a little under his gaze. For a moment she seemed to want to cover herself.

Renly sighed and reached out to touch the silky skin of her stomach. “That you’re lovely,” he told her.

Margaery gave him a small smile. “But not to your taste?”

Renly shrugged. “Lovely all the same,” he said. Leaving the sheets where they were, he laid back down, leaning across her so that he could kiss her. Her lips were pleasantly soft and they parted under his just as Loras’ would. With his hand knotted in her hair, Renly had to think that it felt rather like a year or two had slipped away, back to when Loras’ jaw had still been smooth and had not yet felt the bite of a razor. She even smelled a little like him but without the hints of steel and leather.

That illusion shattered though as Renly slipped his hand out of her hair and down to her chest. Her breasts were soft under his fingers and he cupped one idly. Margaery seemed to like that and she shivered, tilting her head back so that Renly could kiss her a little deeper.

She shivered again when Renly moved his hand down to the slit between her legs, parting her thighs so that he could touch her properly. Her folds were silky and Renly explored them a little curiously, glad that Loras wasn’t here to slap his hands away as he had done with the other men. She was already a little wet and he found her opening easily enough, although it seemed further back than he would have expected. He contemplated slipping a finger inside her and yet Margaery took his hand then, moving it to where she no doubt wanted to be touched.

“Bold aren’t you?” Renly laughed.

Margaery smiled sweetly. “It runs in the family.”

Renly rolled his eyes. She’d guided his hand to a small nub above her opening and Renly rubbed it gently with his fingers. It clearly felt good for her and he watched with a little satisfaction as her eyes fluttered closed. The bed still seemed to be swaying a little underneath him but it didn’t seem to matter to her that his fingers were a little clumsy. He could feel her getting steadily wetter and after a few minutes, he slid his fingers down to her entrance. He wasn’t sure whether he needed to stretch her with his fingers before he bedded her but it was his instinct to do so.

He pressed another kiss to Margaery’s lips as he slid a finger into her. It was slick and wet, not dissimilar actually to the inside of someone’s mouth. He was a little surprised not to feel any blockage inside her and he momentarily wondered whether she wasn’t a maid before he dismissed the notion as a foolish one. A noble girl’s maidenhead was worth her weight in gold and Renly didn’t think Margaery so stupid. Gently, he slid his finger in further. This didn’t elicit the same response as touching her earlier had but it didn’t seem to hurt her either and so Renly pushed another finger into her.

She gasped at that and Renly paused. “Does this hurt?” he asked.

She shook her head, a lock of hair falling across her face. “No,” she sighed. “It feels good.”

Keeping the fingers inside her, Renly rolled over onto his side and reached down to grasp his cock. It took him longer than usual to bring himself to arousal but he wasn’t sure whether that was because he was drunk, because he was with a women or simply because he was using his left hand. He supposed that it was probably a combination of all three.

He pressed his cock up against Margaery’s leg. “Shall we then?”

Margaery had to prop herself up on her elbows to get a decent look and for the first time all evening, she looked a tiny bit apprehensive. Then she laughed and it was gone. “Loras told me to brace myself,” she admitted, running a hand through her hair.

Renly laughed. “Not what you expected?” he asked.

Margaery looked again and tentatively, she stroked a finger up his length. “I must confess I have little to compare it too,” she confessed. “But yes, it is _larger_ than I expected.”

Renly grinned and wrapped his own hand back around himself. Her touch wasn’t unpleasant but it wasn’t as useful as his own hand. “Have you never seen a man unclothed before?” he asked. His fingers had slipped out of Margaery as soon as she’d sat up and he moved his hand back to the sweet spot between her legs that she clearly liked.

“No I have,” Margaery said, taking a short sharp breath as he touched her. “Ser Tanton is forever pissing up against the wall when he’s drunk. And obviously I’ve seen Loras dressing many times. But it’s never hard.”

“I should hope not,” Renly laughed. “Targaryens you are not.” He paused then, a memory coming to him which was framed in Loras’ slanted hand. “I had been led to believe though that you’d seen more of Garlan than you ever wanted to,”

Margaery cringed. “Well yes,” she said. “But most of it was in Leonette, you see. Its size was very hard to judge.”

Renly grinned. Loras had never elaborated on what he had told Renly in his letter and Renly didn’t think he ever would. He imagined that he’d done his best to forget what he’d seen.

“Enough of your brothers,” he said. Slipping a finger back inside her, he was pleased to find that she was still wet. “May I?” he asked again, tugging on his cock a few more times. It wasn’t quite as hard as it usually would be when he fucked Loras but he imagined it would be serviceable. Margaery, he knew, would not even know the difference.

Margaery nodded. She looked a little nervous still and Renly let go of his cock so that he could lean over her again to kiss her forehead. “It shan’t be so bad,” he said. “I promise.”

Pulling her legs further apart, he settled himself in the gap between them. It didn’t take him long to realise that this would be a little more awkward than it was with Loras. Whereas he and Loras were better suited heights, he was a little too tall to be able to easily kiss her whilst he did this. He was also loath to put too much of his weight on her. She was only a fragile little thing and he didn’t want to squash her like he almost had done earlier.

“It’s fine,” she whispered though. “You can lean on me if you like.”

Renly just laughed and shook his head, resigning himself to staying propped up on his elbows for the entirety of this. He doubted Margaery realised how heavy he was.

He had to use his hand to find her entrance and when he did, he paused. He regretted now promising that it wouldn’t be so bad. For all he knew, this was excruciatingly painful for a woman the first time. There was nothing he could do about that now though and so he bent down to kiss her one last time.

“Go on,” she murmured against his lips.

Taking her at her word, Renly pushed into her, surprised by how easily her body opened for him. Margaery’s breath hitched a little but she didn’t cry out. The sensation was _interesting_ , Renly decided. It was less tight and yet more tight at the same time. She hugged him like a glove whereas with Loras it was only tight at the entrance. He liked how wet it was; that was useful at least.

Technically it was done now, the marriage consummated but Renly supposed that he should start as he meant to go on. Every king needed an heir and he intended to have several. The boys would be tourney champions and the girls so beautiful that men would flock to the capital just to catch a glimpse of them.

Gently, he pushed in a little more, beginning to rock against her slowly. The essence of it was much like fucking Loras except that the angle was easier. Often he would put a pillow underneath Loras’ hips when they fucked like this but that was not necessary with Margaery; she seemed to be aligned much better with him. It was a mistake though to keep dwelling on Loras and Renly bit back a sigh. He knew far too well that Loras liked the fact that they’d only ever been with each other. He’d told Renly that he thought it romantic, poetic even. It wasn’t the case now. Renly was inside Margaery, as close to her as he had ever been to Loras. That felt strange and rather wrong and Renly tried to put it out of his mind.

“Am I hurting you?” he asked Margaery instead, thinking the girl at least deserved his attention.

“A little,” she admitted. “But don’t stop.”

Renly wanted to laugh. This was familiar. He remembered a rather petulant thirteen year old boy who had once told him the same thing. “No,” he said. “I promised your brother I wouldn’t hurt you.”

Margaery shuddered underneath him. “I’ve been led to believe that it hurting is unavoidable the first few times at least.”

Renly shrugged. He had no idea. He rolled off her though and sat himself up against the headboard. Picking her up, he settled her back astride him. She gasped again as his cock entered her.

“Is that any better?” he asked. He certainly preferred it here at least; it meant that he no longer had to support his own weight or keep his balance- something which was surprisingly difficult with the amount of wine he’d drunk.

Margaery nodded and rested her head against Renly’s chest. Her hand went straight down to in between her legs and Renly laughed. It seemed that she really was as bold as he’d accused her of being.

Taking hold of her hips, he moved them a little. “Surely that will help?” he chuckled. He watched with some amusement as Margaery clearly realised he was right. Pushing her hips up against both him and her hand, she made a small little whining noise which didn’t suit her.

Renly closed his eyes and let her get on with it. He kept his hands on Margaery’s waist, guiding her slightly in her rhythm, but it was easy enough to sit back and let his mind wander. In his head she became heavier, her legs stronger and those little murmurs she was making several pitches lower. The roses of her perfume mingled with the imagined scents of boiled leather and mail.

It became easier as he felt himself get closer. The thought of getting an heir on her was arousing in itself and he imagined his seed quickening inside her, imagined the son that would be born to him.

All the same, he had to bite back Loras’ name as he spilled. Some habits were too ingrained to conquer and he grinned a little sheepishly as he lifted her off him.

“Have you bled?” he asked.

Margaery moved a hand down to in between her legs. “I don’t think so,” she said. “I’m just rather sticky.”

Renly laughed. “Apologies.” Sinking back down onto the bed, he pulled the bedclothes back over them both. He felt almost sober now and now that he’d had his release, he could feel next morning’s headache creeping up on him. He was glad that the candles were almost burned down to the wick; moving would have been too much for him to bother with.

Margaery didn’t seem to want to move either and she tucked herself under his arm, her long tangled hair tickling his neck. “Does it feel strange?” she murmured.

Renly didn’t need to ask what she meant. “A little,” he admitted. He wished though she hadn’t asked. He wanted nothing more than to just shut his eyes and go to sleep but his thoughts were with Loras now. He couldn’t help but wonder what he was doing at the moment, how he was feeling. He liked to think that he was either sitting with the guests who were still up or else asleep in his chambers. It was too easy though to imagine him sitting alone and miserable and Renly felt a little guilty as he settled his aching head on the pillow.

Margaery seemed to guess what he was thinking though and she pressed a kiss to his neck. “He’ll be fine,” she murmured.

Renly nodded. He knew that she was right but Loras, he supposed, was one of the few things that he ever worried about. He didn’t think himself able to stop now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very aware that this is a controversial chapter and I shall be on hand all weekend ready to defend my choices :D Bring it on!


	139. Chapter 139

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long! In good news, I've quit my crazy job. (Figured fifteen hour days weren't worth any amount of "experience"!) So updates should be more regular for a while again :D

Even the prospect of more gifts hadn’t been enough to convince Renly that getting out of bed was a good idea that morning. He’d only been half awake when Margaery had kissed him goodbye and he’d bathed and dressed with his eyes closed. If it hadn’t been for Alyn prodding him every few minutes or so, he’d have probably fallen asleep in the bath too.

Now, sat next to Margaery in the far too sunny courtyard, Renly rather wished he _had_ had that nap in the bath. The gifts were as luxurious as they had been yesterday but Renly found he had neither the attention span nor the energy to get too excited about them. Luckily, he found that courtesies rolled off his tongue all the same though, so used was he to faking enthusiasm for things he cared little about.

Looking around too, Renly could see that he wasn’t the only one who seemed to regret getting up that morning. For once, Mace Tyrell wasn’t rambling on as he usually did and was sat quietly next to his wife; Garlan had dark circles under his eyes; and Lord Eldon even nodded off half way through, his head lolling against his chest. Ser Tanton meanwhile hadn’t even made it down to breakfast and his father had apologised rather profusely to Renly and Margaery on his behalf before he’d sat down. Apparently he’d still been vomiting at dawn.

More obviously absent, however, was Loras. Sullen as Renly knew he was about the whole affair, Renly had expected him to be here all the same, and he was even more surprised when Margaery whispered in his ear to say that she didn’t know why he wasn’t here either. Usually at least one of them could account for exactly where Loras was at any given moment. It was strange that neither of them knew his whereabouts today; strange and a little worrying, Renly had to think.

He still hadn’t appeared by the time that the last gift was presented, and whilst Renly was genuinely contemplating returning to his chambers and crawling back into bed, his desire to find Loras was stronger. Leaving Margaery to finish directing the servants as to where they wanted their gifts taken, he dragged his feet along the corridors until he found himself outside Loras’ chambers.

He knocked loudly. It was a few moments before there was any response but then Renly heard the sound of movement inside.

“Who is it?” Loras mumbled through the door.

“Me,” Renly yawned, leaning heavily against the wall and wishing it was a bed.

It took Loras a little while to open the door but when he did Renly found himself a little overwhelmed with fondness for him. Barefoot, he was still in his bedclothes and his hair was standing up in every direction. He’d clearly just woken up and he was rubbing sleep from his eyes. Renly couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Loras look so adorably sleepy. It didn’t happen often; usually the drapes were opened in Loras’ chambers just after dawn.

“Can I join you?” Renly asked, tucking a very frizzy curl behind Loras’ ear.

Loras nodded and Renly stepped inside the darkened room before anybody had the chance to come down the corridor and see him. He was unsurprised to see that Loras’ chambers weren’t very tidy. His things from last night were thrown carelessly over the back of a chair and he’d trailed mud all over the beautiful Myrish carpets. Curiously though, Margaery’s bride’s cloak had been folded up neatly on the windowsill, her satin slippers placed beside it in a neat line. Evidently her things were more important than his own.

“So where were you this morning?” Renly asked with a laugh, even though it was rather obvious.

Loras frowned, running a hand through his unruly hair to push it off his face. “What time is it?”

“Midday…”

Loras blinked at that, scratching his head. “I’m sorry,” he said eventually, stifling a yawn. “I intended to be there.”

He sounded like he meant it too and Renly pulled him close. He was all soft and warm from sleep and Renly raked a hand gently through his tangled hair, pulling the knots out for him. Loras seemed happy enough for him to do that and he leant against him heavily, his eyes closing as if he were ready to go back to sleep in his arms. Renly didn’t think he would have minded if he did.

“Didn’t sleep well last night?” Renly murmured, propping him up.

Loras shrugged. “No,” he sighed, the word a warm puff of air against Renly’s neck. “Not particularly.”

He sounded as exhausted as Renly felt and gently, Renly led him back to bed. The covers were all rumpled from where Loras had just got up and Renly kicked off his boots to climb underneath them. They were still warm and smelled just like Loras did. It was more than a little comforting and he breathed in their scent deeply. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine that he was back in the room that had always been Loras’ back in Storm’s End.

“How was it then?” Loras asked softly, climbing into the other side uncharacteristically clumsily and stretching out on his front under the covers.

Renly raised his head. “Do you really want to know?”

Loras shrugged. “You managed it then? I thought you might have drunk too much.”

Renly laughed; he had to wonder whether he should feel wounded that Loras evidently thought so little of his performance whilst drunk. “No,” he said. “I was fine once I’d sobered up a little. I didn’t vomit on her at least.”

Loras raised a small smile at that, evidently recalling their words from yesterday. “So,” he mumbled. “Are we missing out after all? Was it enjoyable?”

Renly shrugged a little contemplatively. He wondered what Loras would do if he lied and told him it had felt wonderful. It was almost tempting, just to see his face.

“I suppose it felt _nice_ enough,” he settled for eventually, rather truthfully. “But a little dull.” He didn’t elaborate. He doubted Loras would want to know the details about how his sister’s cunt had felt wrapped around his cock. It wasn’t something that most brothers would actively take an interest in.

Indeed, Loras didn’t press for more details; he just nodded against the pillow a little pathetically. Perhaps he’d been hoping for Renly to tell him that it felt absolutely horrid.

“It was weird going to sleep without you,” Renly added softly in an attempt to cheer him up. “I missed you a lot.”

Loras just hummed. He seemed more preoccupied with his pillow than forming an answer and he buried his face in it.

“So how are you feeling this morning?” Renly pressed, a little anxiously. It was strange that Loras seemed to have nothing to say to him, though perhaps understandable this morning. In fact, Renly reckoned he’d have understood if Loras hadn’t even got up to let him in.

Loras shrugged again. “Just couldn’t sleep,” he repeated blandly.

Chewing the inside of his cheek, Renly stretched to tuck a curl behind his ear. “I always said you were useless at sleeping alone,” he murmured.

Loras snorted at that. “Whatever you say, Renly,” he sighed. “Now can you just come here and shut up? I’m tired and I want you.”

The sentiment was sweet but his tone left no room for argument and so Renly hastened to do as he was told. Shifting closer, he wrapped his arms tightly around him. “Alright, Loras,” he whispered.

Loras rolled onto his side then so that Renly could hold him better and Renly sighed deeply into his hair. He imagined that he could stay here forever. It was warm and peaceful under the covers; Loras was solid and heavy against his chest. It all felt _right_ and if it hadn’t been for the fact that his head was still pounding, Renly would have thought it perfect.

Biting back a sigh, he gripped Loras a little tighter and leant down to whisper in his ear. “I think I have the worst headache I’ve ever experienced, Loras,” he murmured.

Loras opened his eyes seemingly very reluctantly. “You do?” he asked. “I’m sorry.” He kissed Renly’s forehead.

There was something very comforting about that and Renly wondered whether it was what Loras’ mother used to do when he’d been sick as a child. He could imagine the Lady Alerie wiping Loras’ brow and kissing his forehead. All in all, Loras’ embrace was warm and soft and Renly could just feel himself drifting off despite his headache when he was startled abruptly awake again by a knock on the door.

“Ignore it,” Renly murmured, tightening his hands around Loras’ waist. “I’m too tired to move.”

Loras kissed the hollow at his throat. “Then don’t,” he said. “I shall step outside and I’ll be back before you even notice I’m gone.”

Despite not waiting for an answer, it was very wearily that Loras got out of bed. Watching him now, it would have been impossible to believe that he was a tourney champion. Like he’d promised though, he only opened the door a little before peering round it.

“So you are in there,” came a laugh from outside. Renly stifled a groan as he realised who it was. He supposed he should have known before the visitor even spoke. It wasn’t a surprise at all that Loras would be both his and Margaery’s first priority this morning. They had that in common. He supposed that to be a good thing and yet he felt that familiar stab of jealousy all the same. Married now or not, he and Margaery had got so used to playing tug of war with Loras that Renly imagined it would take some time before those feelings would fade completely.

There was embarrassment too mixed in with the jealousy and Renly sat up a little hurriedly. He felt more than a little awkward tangled up in Loras’ bedsheets and whilst he’d claimed that he was too tired to move, he moved now. He knew that Margaery would neither care nor be surprised but he still didn’t want to be seen in Loras’ bed by anyone but Loras himself. Extricating himself from the covers, he straightened them as if he were a servant before crossing the room to settle himself instead on the comfy chair by the window.

“Where’ve you been all morning?” Margaery’s voice was bright and cheerful as it came through the door. She obviously didn’t begrudge her brother the fact that he’d missed her breakfast.

“Bed,” Loras mumbled.

“Well can I come in?”

Loras shrugged, his back to Renly. “I suppose you can if you like,” he said. “But as they say, two’s company, three’s a crowd.”

“Oh is Renly with you?” Far from being disappointed, Margaery sounded delighted. Renly could practically imagine the way she was bouncing on her toes and trying to peer round Loras.

Loras stepped back from the door and Margaery laughed. Her smile was as bright as it had been this morning and she danced over. “Are you feeling better?” she asked. “I thought you were going to fall asleep at the table earlier.”

Renly stifled a yawn and forced a smile. “I’m fine,” he told her. “Though I have decided that I shan’t ever drink again.”

Loras snorted at that. “Yes,” he said, turning from where he’d been barring the door. “And I’ll never joust again either.” Rolling his eyes, he took in Renly and Margaery by the window. He didn’t look particularly surprised to see that Renly had moved but he raised his eyebrow all the same.

Margaery, however, was still smiling and she perched herself on the end of Loras’ bed, her legs tucked under her skirts.

“So what happened after we left?” she asked Loras. “I tried to get it out of Megga but she got sent to bed by her father.”

Loras shrugged, climbing back onto his bed as well to sit next to her. “Nothing much,” he yawned. “Father and Uncle Paxter started reminiscing about the good old days as usual; Ser Baelor challenged Ser Emmon to a horse race along the Mander until Willas decided to ruin their fun and put a stop to it.” He paused, scratching his head. “Oh and Tanton tried to kiss Elinor and got hit in the face.”

Margaery giggled at that and Renly himself had to smile. He for one had assumed that Garlan had been lying when he’d said when Ser Tanton had been lying in wait at the bottom of the stairs for the last girl down. Apparently nothing but the truth had left his lips.

He didn’t listen to much more of their conversation. The chair was comfortable and padded, the closed drapes shrouded the room in darkness and Renly was tired. It was far too easy to shut his eyes and close his ears.

He must have dozed. The next moment that he was aware of there was a warmth next to Renly’s side and a hand in his hair. It was almost certainly Loras’ judging from the way that it was rubbing small circles against the nape of his neck and Renly didn’t bother opening his eyes. He rather enjoyed lingering in that strange purgatory between sleep and wakefulness.

“Yes,” Margaery was saying, her voice faraway somehow, like a bell chiming in the distance. “I’m not lying. Septa Leticia actually made me lie with my legs in the air this morning. I felt terribly silly. I thought Alla and Megga were going to die laughing.”

“I shan’t lie, Margaery. I would have laughed too.” Indeed, Loras sounded distinctly amused. “But there’s no hurry is there?”

Margaery laughed and perhaps Renly was waking up for it seemed a little clearer. “Not particularly,” she said. “But you know how terribly old fashioned she is. She went on and on about how it’s my duty as a wife and how I have big shoes to fill because mother gave father not one but _three_ boys before she had me. And how I don’t want to be like grandmother who put all her eggs in one basket by only having one son…”

Loras chuckled at that and slipped his hand further into Renly’s hair a little fondly. “I don’t think he would mind if you had a girl.”

Margaery laughed rather derisively. “Well I think he’d _prefer_ a son. All men do. Which according to Septa Leticia means that he should visit my chambers only when the moon is waning and that I should pray to the Father an hour before. She’s going to make me drink this dandelion tea too which Leonette says tastes foul.”

Loras snorted, a sound which mirrored Renly’s own thoughts exactly. As much as he agreed with Margaery in that he would definitely like a son and heir to come along quickly, he set no store in such old wives tales. It all sounded like the stuff of fairy tales to him. It belonged with talk of the Children of the Forest and of mermaids.

“Well it clearly hasn’t worked for Leonette yet,” Loras said scathingly, “so I wouldn’t bother with it if I were you.”

“I’ll have to pour it into the flowerbeds when she’s not looking. Maybe Leonette will help me distract her.”

“Is it all your responsibility then?” Loras pushed Renly’s hair off his face, his palm warm against his forehead. “What about this lazy thing here then? Why isn’t _he_ being force-fed dandelion tea?”

Margaery must have been sat at the foot of the chair for Renly felt her hand on his knee. “Well maybe she’ll try,” she laughed. “When he wakes up we should tell him to watch out. She’s a sly one after all. She’d ambush him in the bath with that dandelion tea if she thought that would get an heir on me.”

Renly smiled sleepily into the side of the chair at that. He’d rue the day that he let any septa tell him what to do. He supposed it was one of the good things about growing up without a mother or a father. He’d had very few people who had ever dared to tell him what he could and couldn’t do. It had tended to result in him simply doing exactly what he liked most of the time. Even Penrose hadn’t managed to reign him in there.

Loras apparently agreed too that such attempts to control him would be fruitless. “Let her try,” he said. “He’s stubborn when it comes to things he doesn’t enjoy. Trust me, I know.”

Margaery laughed at that. There was a pause before she spoke again and when she did she sighed a little wistfully. “He’s terribly handsome even when he sleeps, isn’t he?” she murmured.

“He is,” Loras agreed, his voice close to Renly’s ear. “It’s nice too because he shuts up for once. Usually it’s just on and on and on.”

Margaery laughed. “Oh you are mean, Loras. He was terribly concerned for you last night.”

Loras’ hand tightened in Renly’s hair. “I know.”

Renly exhaled deeply against the arm of the chair. He was glad that Loras knew; it soothed his guilty conscience a little. It had been far too easy to worry about him last night. He still had visions of Loras sulking alone in his room all night.

“Good,” Margaery agreed. “Because I almost expected him to get up and find you once we’d finished.”

Loras made a small noise in the back of his throat. “No,” he said. “He’s too nice to do that. He wouldn’t leave you on your wedding night.” _Just every other night_ was the unsaid part of that sentence, Renly thought.

“Well it was nice he didn’t,” Margaery agreed. Pausing, she sighed heavily, resting her hand again on Renly’s knee. “He is lovely. Do you think he’ll grow to love me in time?”

Renly felt quite awake now but he didn’t dare open his eyes. He was too curious to hear what they had to say to each other. He had to cringe inwardly at Margaery’s question though; he supposed that he might eventually love her like a sister but he knew it would never be anything more than that. The silver lining to that cloud, he supposed, was that he reckoned Margaery probably knew that as well as he did.

Indeed, he felt the chair judder a little as Loras evidently shrugged. “Maybe,” he said. “Like I love you anyway. And he’ll take care of you as well as any man could.”

“Well he has to,” Margaery pointed out with a laugh. “He told me yesterday that you’d made him promise not to hurt me.”

Loras chuckled. “Which was unnecessary really,” he said quietly, hand still in Renly’s hair. “He’s incapable of hurting you. On purpose at least. It’s not in his nature to hurt a woman. The seven hells would freeze over before he took a hand to you.”

“So he doesn’t have a temper?”

Loras wound a strand of Renly’s hair around his finger. “Not one that’s easily roused,” he told her. “He can put up with a lot before he gets angry.”

“So he’s never lost his temper at you then?”

Loras laughed. “Of course not.” There was a slight pause. “Oh don’t look at me like that, Margaery. I know _I_ have a quick temper. You don’t need to point that out.”

“I didn’t say a word!”

“You didn’t have to.”

“Well it’s not like it’s not true or anything...”

“Well stop pointing my flaws out please,” Loras laughed. “He’s probably listening to every word we’re saying anyway.” As if to demonstrate his point, he gave Renly’s shoulder a gentle push.

Groaning, Renly consented to open his eyes. Even the dim candlelight was too bright and it dazzled him a little bit. He’d been right though about where Loras and Margaery were sitting. Loras was perched on the arm of the chair next to him whilst Margaery was sat at their feet, her skirts fanned out across the floor. He could only imagine what a sight the three of them would have made to an outsider.

Turning to Loras, he stifled a yawn. “She’s right,” he told him with a grin. “You do have a terrible temper.”

Loras rolled his eyes and took his hand rather quickly out of Renly’s hair; he no doubt knew that- as silly as it was- Renly might not appreciate the show of affection in front of his sister. “Headache any better?”

Renly nodded. “And you?” he asked. “Less tired?”

Loras shrugged. “No,” he said shortly. “The constant stream of visitors has not helped that.”

Pretending to look hurt, Renly glanced down at Margaery on the floor. “You’d think he’d be grateful that he’s so loved,” he sighed. “And by two people no less.”

Margaery nodded solemnly and reached up to take Renly’s hand. “Shall we leave him in peace then?” she laughed. Gathering her skirts, she picked herself daintily up off the floor.

Loras scowled. “I didn’t mean for you to leave,” he said hurriedly. “I just meant that I was still tired.”

Renly smiled up at him. Both he and Margaery sat back down.


	140. Chapter 140

Renly was crowned on a sunny afternoon in Highgarden to the cheers of both the Reach and the Stormlands alike. Stood upon the dais in the sept with his antlered crown glittering upon his brow, Renly had never felt more powerful as he watched the noble men and women before him sink to their knees in a pledge of fealty. Like a breaking wave they bowed to him and it was with reluctance that Renly bid them rise.

They feasted again that evening, this time under new Baratheon banners of green and gold which fluttered in the evening’s breeze. The food was as excellent as usual but Renly found himself too caught up in excitement to even taste it. Instead he couldn’t help but study his new subjects: the dozens and dozens of lords and ladies who had named him their king. Soon he would be king in more than just name. The wheels were in motion now. The Rose Road had been closed a week past, the wagons of hay and wheat that usually trundled up it to the capital now redirected to field an army that was already swelling in size. The southern part of the Kingsroad too had been shut, those that reached Bronzegate being turned back towards Storm’s End by House Buckler. The bounty of the Stormlands, pitiful as it was compared to that of the Reach, now followed the soldiers which were marching west across the Dornish Marches. It was ironic, Renly thought; for centuries the marches had served as the battleground between the Dorne, the Stormlands and the Reach. This was the first time in the history of the Seven Kingdoms that a Stormlands force had crossed them to _combine_ with an army at Highgarden.

It would very likely be the largest army ever to be fielded in Westeros and Renly knew that his subjects could already taste victory. Indeed, in the days that followed, ravens poured in to pledge their support.

Margaery could barely hide her delight. Every morning at the crack of dawn she sent one of her maids up to the rookery to see if another raven had arrived. Her glee was infectious and Renly would usually call on her on his way down to breakfast so that she would be able to joyfully recite her list of names. Usually she'd be ready and waiting for him, the names already committed to memory along with how many soldiers they could field. 

This particular morning, however, Renly knocked on the door to her chambers to find that she wasn’t even dressed. She was still in her nightdress with her hair in a long plait down her back. She didn’t seem perturbed though and she ushered Renly in with as much delight as she’d shown all week.

“You’re early,” she laughed. “ _Your grace_.”

Renly grinned at her. The title was perhaps the only thing which still seemed a little strange to him. He kept on hearing ‘your grace’ and forgetting that it referred to him. Indeed, there was still part of him which looked round for Robert every time he heard it. As a child after all, he’d had it hammered into him that ‘your grace’ was either Robert or Cersei.

“Yes,” he said, coming to stand behind her at the looking glass and stifling a yawn. “Well I have the first of many many meetings with my many many advisors.”

“I wish I could come,” Margaery said wistfully, hands moving to undo her plait for the day.

Renly kissed her on the top of her curly head; he didn’t have it in him to feel particularly sorry for her. “I’m sure Loras will tell you all about it. Even if your father forbids him from doing exactly that.”

Margaery didn’t even bother to deny it; she just smirked at him in the mirror and continued untwisting her hair.

“So go on then,” Renly laughed as he sat down at her dressing table to watch her. “Tell me who has written this morning. I can see that you’re itching to.”

An even wider smile came to her face and Renly had to think that she looked like Loras did after he’d won a particularly difficult tilt. “You’ll never guess.”

Renly leant back against the back of his chair. “Lord Leyton?” he suggested lazily.

“No, he was three days ago. I knew you weren’t listening when I told you.”

Renly did his best to look sheepish. Scratching his head, he tried to think who else it could be. From the unconcealed glee on her face he supposed it had to be someone that they weren’t expecting to declare for him. “Lord Swann then?” he ventured. His son Ser Donell had made it very clear that his father would probably raise no banners.

“No, not Lord Swann,” Margaery told him, turning to face him. “ _Better_.”

Renly thought again and came up blank. “Who then?” he laughed. “Put me out of my misery.”

“Lord Alester.”

Renly certainly hadn’t been expecting that and he whistled. He hoped Stannis would hear soon and he wished terribly that he could be a fly on the wall to see his face. Stannis would be absolutely furious at the whole situation, Renly knew, and his own wife’s family declaring for him would just be the cherry on top of the cake. Renly supposed he ought not to be that surprised though. The Florents weren’t stupid and one only had to glance at the numbers to know that any union between Highgarden and Storm’s End would be victorious.

“The Florents,” he sighed gleefully. “Well I never. And Loras used to tell me how he wanted to drown them all in a well.”

Margaery snorted with mirth. “Loras is awful,” she laughed. “And we told him to mind his tongue when he left for Storm’s End.”

Renly smiled; Loras’ tongue had been unbridled even when he’d been but a boy. “I imagine he wasn’t even listening,” he told her.

Nodding rather solemnly, Margaery turned back to the mirror. She’d finished with her hair now and had moved her hands down to unbutton her nightdress. Usually she’d have a maid to help her but Renly imagined that none dared to enter her chambers when they knew that he was present; no doubt they assumed that rather private affairs were going on between the king and his wife.

Renly watched idly as Margaery undressed. She seemed to have no shame in front of him and she didn’t even bother to cover herself as she stepped into the fresh smallclothes that her maids had left out for her. She was like Loras in that; Renly couldn’t remember Loras ever being shy about his body.

It was only when Margaery had fastened her smallclothes that Renly noticed what else had been left out for her by her maids and he laughed as he saw the cup of steaming liquid on her dresser. “Is that the dreaded dandelion tea I’ve heard so much about?” he asked.

Margaery made a face and turned. “Gods,” she said when she caught sight of it. “Has Septa Leticia sent it up for me again?”

“Indeed.” Reaching out for it, Renly peered a little closer. It didn’t look as bad as all that and tentatively, Renly took a sip. He soon wished he hadn’t; it was bitter and acrid. “It does taste foul,” he admitted. “I wouldn’t drink this even if it did work.”

Margaery smiled, coming to stand next to him. “You know what might work?” she said. “If you took me to bed again.”

Renly rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes,” he laughed, wrapping an arm lazily around her waist. “I shall come and see you soon.” It wasn’t his fault that there had been so many feasts and parties to keep him busy.

“You could see me now,” Margaery pointed out, sitting herself down on his lap. “When’s that meeting?”

“In a quarter of an hour.”

Margaery met his eye, her cheeks already dimpling with the beginnings of a smile. “So plenty of time?” she retorted.

Renly raised an eyebrow and tried to keep a straight face. “You insult me.”

Margaery grinned. “Or do you insult _me_ by not having come to see me since wedding me?”

Renly had to admit she had him there and he laughed. “Fine,” he said, bending to kiss her on the forehead. “I shall come soon.”

“Soon?”

“Yes,” Renly repeated firmly. “ _Soon_.”

Margaery’s eyes twinkled. “So when Loras lets you, that is?”

“And that’s the second time you’ve insulted me this morning,” Renly chuckled, rolling his eyes. “I knew I should have taken a simple wife.” Rising, he shifted her onto the chair instead of him and patted her mockingly on the head. “Now drink your dandelion tea like a good girl. I have a meeting to go to.”

 

* * *

 

 

It was the first meeting that Renly would have as king and it was with some pride that he made his way to Mace Tyrell’s private solar. It was a room that he’d never stepped foot in before and Renly had to smile at how beautiful it was. Tapestries hung from the walls and the windows were large and arching, letting light stream in through them. He was one of the last men to arrive too and he could already feel the excitement rippling through the room’s very walls.

Renly smiled as he sat down at the head of the table. Usually Mace Tyrell would sit there but as king, Renly now sat in the position of honour. Renly wondered if it should feel any different and was a little disappointed to find that it didn’t. He supposed he was already used to feeling important.

He did rather like the fact though that the others took their seats when Renly had. It was a mark of respect, one that even Loras awarded him.

“Thank you for coming today,” Renly told them all once they had settled. “I am honoured.” Smiling, he looked around the table. Most of the faces surrounding him were well known to him. Lord Mace sat on his right and Penrose and Ser Guyard on his left. All _three_ of the Tyrell boys sat opposite and the sight of them sat together in a row put Renly somehow at ease. With Garlan’s optimism, Willas’ calm manner and Loras’ overwhelming familiarity, Renly found each of them a reassuring presence in their own way.

Alyn too was there but he was skulking in a corner with a tray of wine. It had been agreed yesterday that there would be no serving girls or boys permitted inside the room whilst they met but Alyn, however, Renly trusted beyond a doubt. He knew that no word of what took place in this room would ever leave his lips.

There were those too though that Renly did not know so well. Mathis Rowan with his ruddy face was almost a stranger to him. As was Randyll Tarly with his bristly grey beard and balding head. The empty seat between them too was meant for Paxter Redwyne, another man who Renly had barely spoken to over the years, though where he was right now was anyone’s guess. All three of them though were supposed to be worthy additions to his counsel.

It was Garlan who spoke first and he grinned at Renly down the table. “So who has declared for us?” he laughed.

“Just about everyone who’s anyone,” Loras said with a smirk, leaning lazily back in his chair as Alyn passed him a cup of wine.

There was a murmur of cheerful assent at that but Willas was shaking his head. “You’re forgetting the Redwynes,” he said quietly. He looked pointedly at the empty chair between Lord Rowan and Lord Tarly.

“What about them?” Loras asked. “Late or not, there’s no possibility that Uncle Paxter shan’t declare.”

There was a silence at those words and Renly turned expectantly to Mace Tyrell. His heart sunk to see that Mace had turned a rather unpleasant shade of red at his son’s words, his cheeks flushed and ruddy.

“A raven came yesterday evening,” he said. “From King’s Landing. Both the Redwyne twins have been prevented from leaving.”

Renly knew what that meant without being told. It meant that Paxter Redwyne’s hands were tied and more importantly, it meant no fleet. “Well,” he said, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice. “Some things just can’t be helped.”

“Does Storm’s End have no ships, your grace?” Lord Rowan asked. He evidently knew exactly what Renly conclusions Renly had drawn from that piece of news.

The question had been directed at Renly but it was Loras who spoke. “Obviously not,” he said. “It sits on _Shipbreaker_ Bay. It offers no anchorage for sh-.”

Renly put up a hand to silence him. “Actually Ser Loras, we do have ships.”

Loras scowled; he clearly didn’t like being contradicted. “Really? In all my years squiring I never saw a single Baratheon ship in Shipbreaker Bay. Where are they?”

“Well they used to sit off the coast of Tarth I believe,” Renly laughed. He looked to Penrose for guidance. “And they were merged into the Royal Fleet nine, ten years ago maybe?”

“Longer,” Penrose corrected. “What did exist of Storm’s End’s fleet was sunk early during the Rebellion and those ships commissioned to rebuild it sailed with Stannis for Dragonstone.”

“Convenient,” Loras muttered.

Tarly shrugged, however. “It is no matter,” he said. “A few galleys here or there is of little use anyway. Without significant numbers, a blockade would be a fool’s errand.”

“Indeed,” Rowan agreed. “And with the roads closed to both the south and the north, King’s Landing will starve with or without a blockade.”

Most around the table nodded at that but Loras didn’t seem placated. “Well then we should march north before they have a chance to realise that they ought to bring supplies in by sea,” he said.

Tarly, however, shook his head. “No,” he disagreed, declining the wine that Alyn was trying to offer him. “If we know what’s good for us, we’ll let the Starks and the Tullys bleed them dry. The longer we wait, the weaker they become.”

Loras blinked; he clearly didn’t like that plan. It was boring and it involved waiting around instead of charging into battle in a rush of glory. There was a murmur of assent though from everyone else, Renly included. He liked the idea well. There was no point losing more life than necessary and their strength would only grow whilst the Lannisters’ waned. It would be easy enough to sit at Tumbleton or even Fawnton until the wolves had ripped the lions limb from limb. He was sure that the opportune moment would present itself.

“Whether we take a slow approach or not, I still thought we should discuss taking King’s Landing,” Renly said. He turned again to his right. “Lord Mace, you had your steward prepare some figures did you not?”

Mace nodded and shuffled some papers in front of him until he had the piece he was looking for. “By my calculations, we should have a host of ninety-five thousand to march north. From the Reach at least.”

Tarly pursed his lips. “I would take twenty or thirty thousand from that number myself. Every lord exaggerates when estimating how many men he can field.”

Willas nodded. “And besides,” he added. “As tempting as it is, we don’t _want_ to use every abled bodied man. A large army needs feeding and that necessitates men staying behind to see to the harvests.”

Renly could see the logic in that and nodding, he turned to Penrose for his own figures. They would be much less impressive than those of the Reach but he supposed that couldn’t be helped. It was no secret that the Reach could field almost as many soldiers as the other six kingdoms combined.

“About twenty thousand, your grace,” Penrose told him. “Thirty if we scrape the bottom of the barrel.”

Renly smiled despite how small the number sounded. “Which makes at least eighty thousand, give or take. A fine number.”

Loras met his gaze then and he smirked at him across the table. There was a glint in his eye that made Renly want to fuck him then and there across the table and Loras clearly knew it. He’d leant back in his chair almost cockily, swilling the wine in his cup. “This is almost too easy,” he laughed. “I imagine we’ll approach from the west? To avoid the river?”

Tarly nodded. “From the west. No point attempting to breach the River Gate without ships.”

“And when we do take King’s Landing?” Rowan murmured. “What then? What of King Robert’s heirs?”

A rather tense silence fell. That was a very good question actually. Renly after all had no real claim to the throne. He was only third in line, after Tommen and Stannis respectively. Figuring out what to do with those who had a better claim was paramount. Stannis would no doubt fall in line eventually but the children were another matter entirely.

It was Tarly who dared to speak first. “We should execute them all,” he said sternly. “As hard as it may be.”

There was another silence. Everyone knew this was the wisest course of action but clearly no one wanted to speak until Renly gave his own opinion.

Tarly’s eyes were boring into him but very slowly Renly shook his head. He sometimes daydreamed about having Joffrey put to death but he was only one of his brother’s three children. “No,” he said. “The death of the Targaryen children dogged Robert for the rest of his reign and they weren’t even his kin.”

Tarly scowled. “Yes, your grace, but needs must.”

Renly wondered how clear he’d have to make this and he put his cup of wine carefully down on the table before speaking. “I’ll not have the smallfolk call me kinslayer before I even sit the throne,” he said adamantly.

“Well Joffrey will _have_ to be disposed of,” Penrose pointed out evenly. Alongside Loras, he was perhaps the only person sat there who would dare to contradict him so readily.

“Well yes,” Renly agreed. He hadn’t meant to imply that Joffrey should live. “But I shan’t make a spectacle of executing him either. Ideally, he shall die in battle.”

“It’d be a pleasure,” Loras said dryly.

Mace grumbled at that; he probably didn’t want the death of the king by right at his son’s hands either. “But your grace,” he said. “A public execution would show the smallfolk who the new king is.”

Willas shrugged though. “With all due respect, Father, I imagine that the smallfolk care little for shows of execution. They follow who feeds them. And we shall be feeding them.”

Rowan nodded. “Yes,” he said. “Kinslaying is a great sin indeed. It would be best that Joffrey were slain in battle. If we find him holed up in the Red Keep he can be quickly dealt with then and we can claim he died on the field.”

“As he was trying to flee,” Loras added snidely.

Tarly nodded curtly despite evidently not being convinced. “And what of the other two?”

“They live,” Renly said firmly. “And we watch them very carefully.” He would not make the mistake Robert did and let them flee. As far as he was concerned, it was best to keep potential enemies close. He knew Tommen and Myrcella. He’d do better making friends of them than letting them wander across the Narrow Sea and make him jump every time they hired a sellsword.

Mace Tyrell coughed. “Perhaps one of us could take the boy as a ward. From what I hear of his nature, he will be easily moulded.”

Renly nodded, pleased that his counsel were beginning to come round. “Tommen poses no threat,” he told them with a laugh. “He’s so gentle that he couldn’t lead a pony let alone an army.”

Penrose cut in. “Don’t make that mistake, your grace,” he said with a fond shake of his head. “Children grow up. In fact, you were very like him as a boy.”

Renly smiled, running a hand through his hair with a laugh. He supposed that nobody who’d known him as a child would have expected this. Yes, he’d been the child who’d dreamt about being a king but he’d also been the child who had dreamt of being a dragon or a giant. It would have been laughable to suggest that he’d grow up to raise an army against his nephew.

“The Night’s Watch is always a possibility too,” Garlan suggested. “They surrender all lands and titles when they take the black.”

Loras laughed ruefully though. “Might as well run him through and be done with it if we do that,” he snorted. “The boy’s so soft he couldn’t withstand a sneeze. Let alone a northern winter.”

Renly rolled his eyes. “As you say,” he agreed. He turned to Penrose. “If it please you, I imagine I’d have him sent to Storm’s End to be raised with his brother.”

Penrose smiled. “And the princess?”

“The princess is almost old enough to be wed,” Rowan pointed out, looking around the table to see if any agreed with him. “Perhaps we could make use of her. Barter with her so to speak.”

“With Dorne,” Guyard suggested, speaking up for the first time all morning. “We shall need to win their support somehow.”

Renly raised his eyebrow at that but Penrose got there first. “Send her to Dorne you say?” he scorned. “We’d have to be mad. It’s the only place in the entire kingdom which recognises females in the line of succession.”

“Not to Dorne,” Tarly agreed, raising his voice. “They must be kept close.” He turned to Mace Tyrell. “Perhaps the princess could be married to one of your sons.”

Mace Tyrell paused, a little flustered as he turned to look at both Willas and Loras. He clearly didn’t want to waste his heir on a deposed princess and the way that Loras was scowling at him let him know exactly what he thought of his own suitability. Renly had to bite back a sigh. If he were totally honest, the obvious candidate really _was_ Loras. He was only a little older than Myrcella and as a third son he was of no other real use. Wed to him, there would be no chance of Myrcella ever rebelling against the crown; the queen would be her good-sister and no doubt the two girls would grow fond of each other. Renly wasn’t about to agree with Tarly and suggest it though; he imagined that Loras had suffered enough.

Instead, he turned to Alyn who was hiding again in the corner as he waited for the men to drink their wine. “Want her?” he asked with a laugh. “I’d trust you not to depose me either.”

Alyn almost dropped the wine he was carrying. “Myrcella is very beautiful, your grace,” he stammered.

“Of course she is,” Renly laughed. “She’s my niece.” He grinned at him. “Although I dare say little Tommas Fossoway would never forgive you. I do remember how he took a fancy to her. Perhaps I should give her to him instead.”

Alyn just turned even pinker, flushing to the tips of his ears.

“Or the silent sisters,” Tarly grumbled. He clearly still thought a sword should be put through her breast.

Renly shrugged; that was a fair suggestion. The silent sisters swore oaths like the Night’s Watch did and it would be very difficult for Myrcella to cause any trouble when she’d taken a vow of silence and chastity. It was a miserable life though and Renly didn’t like to think of sweet Myrcella tending to the dead. Robert, he knew, would turn in his grave if he knew that was what had become of her.

“And what of the mother?” Mace murmured.

Renly scowled; he hadn’t even thought of Cersei. “As much as it pains me,” he said through gritted teeth, “her only real crime is being a hateful creature. She was my brother’s wife and as such she lives unless she persuades me otherwise.”

“She’s not so old,” Guyard said with a haughty shrug. “Marry her again.”

“Hear, hear!” Lord Rowan evidently agreed and he raised his cup. A wry grin crept onto his face. “Perhaps the old Lord Frey might be in want of a wife.”

“Or Lord Grandison,” Guyard laughed. “Or Ben Beesbury.”

“Beesbury’s already dead,” Garlan grinned. “So a perfect suitor.”

Renly rolled his eyes and tried not to laugh. As much fun as it was to imagine Cersei wed to an old decrepit man, he wouldn’t dare risk letting her loose like that. “It would have to be to someone I trust,” he said. He turned to his left with a grin. “Penrose…? I believe you have no wife.”

Penrose raised an eyebrow. “Your grace is very amusing today.”

Renly didn’t bother to deny that he was joking. He reckoned anyway that Cersei would likely poison any husband he gave her. Smiling, he opened his mouth to speak. He’d been about to suggest that they leave this albeit very entertaining subject in favour of a more serious one but then he caught sight of Loras again. That glint was back in his eyes again and he was watching Renly with the haughty expression that he favoured when he was particularly in the mood for being dragged to bed.

“Right,” Renly said, smirking across the table at him. “I think that concludes things for today.”


	141. Chapter 141

“Did you have to look at me like that all morning?” Renly laughed as he pushed open the door to his chambers.

“Like what?”

Renly paused in the doorway, turning to look at him. “Like you wanted to _eat_ me?” he chuckled.

Loras just grinned and pushed past him, stretching himself out lazily across Renly’s bed when he was inside. “Well I don’t want to _eat_ you,” he said.

Renly shut the door behind him. “Good.”

Loras’ smile widened. “Maybe just a little licking?”

Renly grinned and leant back against the door. “You shouldn’t be tempting me like this,” he laughed, running a hand through his hair. “You know I should be spending time with your sister.”

Loras raised his head to smirk at him. “Well what are you going to do, _your grace?_ Tell me off?”

He sounded almost excited at the prospect and Renly resisted the urge to laugh. “I just might,” he warned. “If you’re not careful, that is.”

Loras rolled onto his front and there was a rather mischievous glint in his eye. “Go on then.” Deliberately, he unbuckled his sword belt, tossing it to the floor. It sent a clear message that he was now defenceless and it was almost an invitation to tell him off.

Renly just raised an eyebrow. It was strange, he thought. Loras seemed to get an odd thrill out of his authority when they went to bed, even though he rarely obeyed him outside of his chambers. It baffled Renly a little but he supposed that he shouldn’t be surprised; power was seductive after all. Something at least had to explain why women had flocked to Robert’s bed when he’d been so fat.

Smiling, Renly sat down next to Loras on the bed. He was quite prepared to be a little rough with him if that was what he wanted and he reached out to grasp Loras’ wrist.

“Wait,” Loras told him though, pulling his arm away and propping himself up on his elbows. “Couldn’t you wear the crown?”

Renly stared at him. “You’d like me to wear the crown?”

“Yes,” Loras said and his tone was completely serious. “Did I not make myself clear?”

Renly rolled his eyes. “Perfectly clear, Loras. I was just wondering, well, _why?”_

The smirk had crept back onto Loras’ face. “Well otherwise how will I be able to take the telling off seriously?”

Renly wanted to laugh. He would have humoured him but the crown was all the way downstairs in Mace Tyrell’s audience chamber. There was no way that he was climbing all the way back down the stairs to satisfy a whim of Loras’. Even he didn’t love him that much.

“Another time,” he insisted.

Loras opened his mouth to protest and Renly quickly silenced him with his hand. With his other, he pulled the laces out of his breeches with one swift movement. “Go on then,” he told him, moving his hand from Loras’ mouth to the back of his head. “Lick a little. Or a lot. Get as carried away as you like really.”

Loras grinned up at him. “But if I get too carried away I may bite.”

Renly raised an eyebrow. “You’d bite a king?”

Loras frowned as if he was confused. “You’re a king?” he breathed. “Then where’s your crown?”

Renly rolled his eyes and roughly, he pushed his head down. “That’s an order,” he said.

“But-“

“And if you mention that gods-be-damned crown again, I shan’t bed you at all.”

Loras just smirked and shifted rather gracefully onto the floor, settling himself between Renly’s knees. His hand was gentle despite his earlier jesting as he drew Renly’s cock out from his breeches and when he took it into his mouth, Renly knew without a doubt that he wouldn’t bite. His mouth was like velvet, soft and warm and inviting. It was easy to forget he had teeth.

“More,” Renly murmured. He pushed down hard on the back of Loras’ head and despite his lack of a crown, Loras obeyed without a fuss, tilting his head so that he could take his entire length. Quite how he did it was still a mystery to Renly but he knotted his hand gratefully in his curls, anchoring him there. He could feel the familiar tension building in his stomach already; Loras was good at what he did and Renly knew it wouldn’t be long at all. Just the sight of Loras on his knees with his mouth around his cock was enough to get him halfway there.

Loras stopped short of letting him finish though and he raised his head. “My turn,” he panted. Yanking Renly’s hand out of his hair, he climbed back onto the bed.

Renly had to smile despite his aching cock. He wondered what an outsider would make of Loras. He was thrice as forthright as any other man dared to be with the new king. He was a walking paradox, Renly thought. On one hand, he was so eager to be dominated sometimes and yet on the other he was equally eager to do the dominating. He could be both bossy and obedient in the space of a few minutes.

Indeed, Loras had soon pushed the small bottle of oil into Renly’s hand. “Here,” he said. “Though undress me properly first.”

“What do you mean, _properly?”_

“Well I’m too handsome to be undressed quickly,” Loras said bluntly, climbing astride Renly’s lap as if to prove his point. “Not when it’s broad daylight.”

Renly resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Loras’ vanity amused him but he knew that he was probably no better. He supposed there was no shame in it really though. Both he and Loras were handsome men; it was not as if their vanity was misplaced.

For all Loras’ talk though, Renly loosened Loras’ collar a little hastily. His cock was still wet from Loras’ mouth and it left him rather disinclined towards patience. Once Loras was naked, he’d be able to bend him over and do as he liked with him and just the thought was enough to make Renly hurry.

Loras, however, had other ideas. “I said _properly,_ ” he protested as Renly tried to yank his shirt over his head. Leaning forward, he caught Renly’s bottom lip in a kiss, biting down softly. There was no haste in it at all and he sighed gently against Renly’s mouth, parting his lips ever so slightly to slow him down. It was lazy and sweet, and Renly had to smile. He had been almost four years and Loras’ kisses still released butterflies into his stomach.

It was a good few moments before Loras pulled away, and slowly, he lifted his knees one by one so that Renly could ease off his breeches and smallclothes. His shirt was next and soon he was naked above Renly, his long lithe body almost dazzling in the sunlight. His skin was creamy and smooth and if it wasn’t for a bruise that was blooming across his left shoulder, he would have been absolutely perfect. As it was, Renly still thought he was more perfect than any mere mortal had any right to be.

“What happened here?” Renly murmured though, kissing the purple mark on his shoulder as he slipped a hand through his legs to ready him.

Loras drew breath sharply as Renly’s finger pushed into him. “Parmen Crane,” he almost whined. “Yesterday.”

Renly smiled. Lord Crane had promised him that the man chosen to be Margaery’s personal guard was skilled. “So he is good then,” Renly said. Slowly, he pushed his finger in further.

Loras shrugged at the question, his entire body shuddering as his eyes flickered closed. “Not bad,” he breathed.

“And here?” Renly asked, brushing his fingers down across Loras’ chest. The scar there was tiny, visible only when the sun’s rays caught it, but Renly kissed it anyway.

“That was Aaron Santagar,” Loras murmured. “I believe I was _distracted_ at the time.”

Renly grinned and kissed it softly again. If he remembered correctly, he had been the distraction. He recalled the moment well. It had been just after Robert had told him that he was naming Jaime Lannister Warden of the East. It was satisfying to think that the Kingslayer would soon hold no titles at all, and smiling, he ran his fingers up Loras’ chest again and up to his face. Pushing his hair back off his forehead, he found what he was looking for: a pale patch of new skin just above his eyebrow.

“And this,” he murmured, “was my bath tub.”

Loras raised an eyebrow and glanced down at his cock. “And this,” he whispered mockingly, “requires your attention.”

Renly rolled his eyes but wrapped his spare hand around Loras’ cock all the same. It was warm and heavy in his hand and he smiled at the way Loras closed his eyes at his touch. It was trusting somehow, almost an act of surrender, and Renly felt a warmth rise in his chest. He rather liked the fact that Loras let himself be this vulnerable with him. The Knight of Flowers went nowhere without his sword and yet now it was discarded on Renly’s bedroom floor as he straddled a man with twice the strength of him.

Renly dipped his fingers back in the oil before he added another finger. Loras groaned at that and Renly frowned.

“Pain or pleasure?” he whispered.

“Stupid question,” Loras mumbled. Smirking, he arched his back and moved closer, positioning himself over Renly’s cock. The message was clear.

“But what about _my_ clothes?” Renly murmured, pulling his fingers out of him all the same. He felt distinctly overdressed sat underneath Loras.

“Doesn’t matter.”

Renly rolled his eyes. _“Hypocrite._ ”

Loras just smirked a little cruelly and shifted closer still. Slowly, he sank down onto Renly.

His arse was hot and tight and Renly leant his head against Loras’ chest. The sensation was too good for him to care that he ought to be fucking his sister. Loras would bear him no heirs but his body felt right against Renly’s.

 

* * *

 

 

Loras only allowed him another half an hour of his company before heading off to the training yard but Renly took his time. He had Alyn draw him a bath and it was only after his hair had dried and he’d rifled through almost every garment in his wardrobe that he bothered dressing and descending.

For once, there was no business for him to attend to and it was to the gardens that he headed. Those lords and ladies who had remained at Highgarden were forever sunning themselves on the castle’s many verandas and they would greatly appreciate the king’s presence in their midst.

Indeed, it didn’t take Renly long to find where everyone had congregated today. They were in the rose garden drinking iced milk and Renly sorely wished that he’d joined them earlier. Most of the young men were in the courtyard with the master-at-arms but the older men like Penrose and Mace Tyrell had lingered in the gardens, as had the many women. Several of them had plucked roses from the flowerbeds to weave into their hair and the sight of them made Renly smile. The women of the Reach always seemed so much more colourful than those of the Stormlands and there was something cheering about the bright fabrics of their skirts and jewellery.

Margaery was looking particularly vivid in a deep sapphire gown and Renly wove through the many tables towards her, greeting his subjects as he went.

It took him a while to reach her, for everyone present wished to share a few words with him, and he was just making to sit down between Megga and Aelinor when Penrose caught his eye from the next table over.

Straightening back up, Renly turned to him. “Yes?” he asked. Glancing apologetically at Margaery, he made his way over to Penrose’s side instead.

“I think, your grace,” Penrose said quietly when Renly was near enough to hear him, “that the Lady Brienne may want a word.”

“Then why didn’t she say so herself,” Renly laughed. He’d passed the Maid of Tarth on his way over to Margaery and she hadn’t said a word. She’d just stared adoringly up at him while her father had engaged him in conversation. He turned now to face her though and beckoned her over.

It was seemingly reluctantly that the girl rose to her feet and picked her way through the tables and chairs. As always, Renly had to look up so that he could meet her eye. It still took him aback even now.

“Your grace,” she mumbled, sinking to her knees on the grass.

She didn’t say anything further and Renly resisted the urge to smile. “Lady Brienne,” he returned.

The Lady Brienne coloured. “You must know I’m no lady,” she said, speaking to Renly’s feet more than anything. “I cannot dance or sew or sing.”

Renly wondered where this was going and he stared down at the back of her blonde head, a little confused. “Well I’m sure you have other talents,” he soothed. “Penrose tells me that you put many young men to shame with a sword.”

Brienne’s homely face almost broke into a smile. “And if you permit it, your grace, you will have my sword. I will lay down my life if you let me.”

Renly was a little baffled. He’d never heard of a woman in an army before and he looked to Penrose for guidance. His castellan was smiling though and he gave Renly a small nod. His opinion on the matter was clear and so Renly looked down again at the maid rather curiously. He supposed that he ought not to be surprised at her request. As she had said, she was not built for sewing or dancing. Stocky and tall, she was built for war. He supposed at the very least that there could be no harm in it; it was not like she was comely enough to provide a distraction.

“Rise,” he told her. “If it’s a place in my army that you desire, then you shall have it. So long as your father has no objections.”

“My father has none, your grace,” Lady Brienne told him as she straightened up. There was a true smile on her face now and Renly didn’t think he’d have recognised her from earlier. She’d lit up like the sunrise and there was almost a bounce in her step as she returned to her father. Even the curious stares that she was getting from the onlookers surrounding her seemed to bounce off her for once.

Renly could see already that many of the men sat in the rose garden doubted his decision but he didn’t particularly care. He sat down next to Penrose with a smile. “So how long has she been waiting to ask me that?” he laughed.

“Days,” his castellan said grimly. “She’s brave with a sword but not so courageous with words.”

Renly nodded. He could see that. He felt like he’d seen rather a lot of the Maid of Tarth over his lifetime but he imagined that he could count all the words she’d said to him before this afternoon on one hand. Usually, she was rather reminiscent of a silent statue. Or a gargoyle perhaps.

“But today, she had to ask,” Penrose continued.

Renly cocked his head. “Why?” As far as he concerned, they had all the time in the world. There was no plans to move from Highgarden yet.

“Because I shall be leaving on the morrow,” Penrose told him. “Along with the rest of Storm’s End’s garrison.”

Renly couldn’t keep the disappointment off his face and he turned earnestly to the older man next to him. “Must you?” he asked.

“I must,” Penrose laughed. “I’m your castellan and my place is in Storm’s End.”

Renly wanted to grumble at that but he knew there was no point. Penrose had been his castellan for over a decade now and he would likely serve in the post until old age took him.

“As you wish,” he sighed, accepting a cup of iced milk from a serving girl. “But you shall promise to come to King’s Landing as soon as it has fallen. To celebrate my victory.”

“Of course I shall, your grace,” Penrose agreed with a rare smile. “And you in turn shall promise me something.”

Renly frowned. He couldn’t recall Penrose ever asking for anything before. “What?” he asked.

“Don’t do anything rash,” Penrose murmured, dropping his voice to a low rumble. “Listen to the counsel that is wise, not the counsel of those you like best.” He looked across the garden to a table in the shade. “Tarly and Rowan are experienced commanders.” He paused then, meeting Renly’s eye. “Loras is not,” he said slowly. “He has no head for war. Not yet at least. His sight is too clouded by his thirst for glory.”

Renly shrugged. He didn’t agree but there was little point telling Penrose that. His castellan still thought of Loras as the fourteen year old who had left for King’s Landing with him. That boy was verging on seventeen now though and Renly knew better than anyone that he could be as shrewd as the next man when he wanted to be. He still remembered how he had outwitted the Mountain.

“As you wish,” he agreed though. He had no wish to argue with Penrose and he would listen to Tarly and Rowan as well as Loras.

“And one more thing,” Penrose added. His tone was still serious.

Renly waved him on.

“Keep Loras with you,” Penrose told him firmly. “I don’t care if you need to send envoys or if you need to send scouts, you keep him next to you and send other men in his place.”

Renly frowned. Loras, he knew, would jump at the chance to be chosen for either of the tasks that Penrose had mentioned. There was nothing Loras hated more than sitting back while lesser men were sent to do a job he coveted. “Well what if he’s the best man for the job?” Renly argued.

Penrose merely raised a russet eyebrow. “That is neither here nor there, Renly. He’s worth his weight in gold as a hostage against yourself and Mace Tyrell. And so he stays.”

“Yes but-“

“But what?” Penrose cut in. “Are you telling me that you wouldn’t order every single man in your entire army to drop their swords if Joffrey put a knife to Loras’ throat and threatened to open it.”

“Yes,” Renly agreed reluctantly, raising a hand to scratch his head. “I would.” The image made him squirm but he was comforted by the fact that it was very unlikely. It would take a better knight than Joffrey had in the capital to take Loras in alive.

Penrose seemed a little comforted by Renly’s agreement and he sat back in his chair. “Good, your grace,” he said. “I’m glad we see eye to eye.”

Renly just snorted.  
  


 

* * *

 

 

Renly migrated towards Margaery once Penrose had said his say and he’d been sat amongst her and her companions for several hours before he was interrupted again. He had noticed Alyn approaching as soon as he had appeared in the garden; his awkward gait stuck out amongst the elegant lords and ladies like a sore thumb.

“You’re needed, my lord,” he said when he reached Renly’s side.

Renly had just opened his mouth to ask why when another voice cut in.

“You shall address the king as _your grace_.” It was Mace Tyrell who had spoken, from the table next to them, and Alyn turned a violent shade of beetroot. No doubt he’d rather have not had his gaffe pointed out by his king’s new good-father, nor in front of Margaery and her handmaidens.

Renly smiled though. If he was honest, he hadn’t even noticed how Alyn had addressed him. “Old habits die hard,” he laughed, patting Alyn on the arm. “As do titles. What is it you wanted, Alyn?”

“Well Ser Guyard and Ser Loras are quarrelling in the yard,” Alyn said quietly.

Renly raised an eyebrow and glanced over to his wife’s father. Mace Tyrell had turned a strange shade of pink at Alyn’s words. He evidently thought that his sons had been brought up better than to quarrel with other knights in the yard like common sellswords.

“About what?” Renly asked. There was a number of reasons why Ser Guyard and Ser Loras could be at each other’s throats and none would have surprised him.

“About your Kingsguard,” Alyn said, shuffling awkwardly from foot to foot. “Each thinks himself about to be chosen commander. Ser Guyard insists that because he’s already the captain of your guard, by extension he shall be Lord Commander.” He paused, scratching his head. “And I’m not sure what Ser Loras’ argument is.”

Renly chuckled, as did Margaery next to him. He hadn’t given his guard much thought yet and yet he supposed that this was a grave oversight indeed. “Well,” he said cheerfully to Alyn. “We’d better go and straighten things out, shouldn’t we.” Inclining his head to Mace Tyrell and Margaery, he rose to his feet to follow Alyn out.

“You mean to have Ser Loras, don’t you?” Alyn asked as soon as they were out of earshot of the rose garden.

Renly grinned. “If you must know, I believe I would like Ser Barristan,” he laughed. “Hopefully when Joffrey is dead, he shall agree to serve me.”

Alyn nodded. “But lacking that you mean to have Ser Loras?”

Renly just smiled.

They’d reached the courtyard now and Alyn clearly hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d said that Loras and Ser Guyard were arguing. The pair of them were stood in the middle of the yard with a crowd of knights huddled around them. Whatever they were saying to each other was drowned out by shouts of “Highgarden!” and “Ser Guyard for Lord Commander!” and both seemed to have a significant amount of support.

Renly was rather amused at it all and he watched a while from the side before he walked among them. Loudly, he clapped his hands and silence fell instantly. “Good men,” he chuckled. “Perhaps I don’t mean to have either Ser Guyard or Ser Loras as my Lord Commander.”

Loras’ eyes flashed and he was unrecognisable from the pliant, playful boy he’d been earlier. “Who do you mean to have then, _your grace?”_

Renly smiled innocently at him. “I mean to have the best among you,” he told them simply. He looked first at Ser Guyard and then at Loras. “We shall have a melee, I think. Let us say next week. With the both of you and any other knight, lord or squire who fancies himself a member of my Kingsguard.”

“Forgive me, your grace.” It was Lord Bryce Caron who spoke up. “But a lord may not also be a knight of the Kingsguard.”

“So you say,” Renly admitted. “But those are laws laid down by Aegon Targaryen, and I am not Aegon, nor am I a Targaryen.” He grinned at Lord Bryce. “So my guard shall hold any titles and any lands I care to bestow on them. They shall be the best swords in the realm. Regardless of title or rank or whether they have taken a wife and sired children.”

An excited murmur ran through the crowd and Renly’s smile widened. His work was clearly done here and he turned to leave them once more to their bickering.

“So you’ll be having Ser Loras then,” Alyn whispered as they left the courtyard.

“Most likely,” Renly admitted.


	142. Chapter 142

Penrose left almost a week later than he’d planned but Renly still felt a little subdued as he stood at Highgarden’s walls and watched the familiar bald head bob along the Rose Road below. He’d got used to having those he liked best surrounding him and for the first time in weeks, he felt his perpetual good mood dented.

Loras, however, was unsympathetic when Renly appeared in his chambers that morning. “It’s only Penrose,” he said bluntly, pulling off his nightshirt as he changed for the day. “He’ll still be rotting away in Storm’s End when Joffrey’s head’s on a spike.”

“I know,” Renly laughed. “But it’s still sad to see him go.”

Loras merely imitated his voice behind his back mockingly.

It was just fond teasing but Renly gave him a sharp slap around the back of the head anyway for good measure. “You’re a pain in the arse,” Renly laughed. “You know that right?”

Loras rolled his eyes. “And here was me thinking you loved me.”

“Oh I do,” Renly smiled, settling down on Loras’ bed to watch him change. “But you’re a right pain in the arse too.”

Loras smirked at him. “If you say so.”

He turned back to changing then and Renly watched him appreciatively from his vantage point on the bed. He’d got all his clothes off now and he was rummaging around in a drawer for a pair of clean smallclothes. Knelt on the ground, with all the muscles in his back pulled taught as he bent over, Renly didn’t think he’d ever seen a prettier sight. Grinning, he got back up to his feet and knelt down beside him.

“Won’t you stay a while?” Renly asked, running his hands up Loras’ spine. Even its many bumps and grooves were familiar to Renly’s fingers.

“No,” Loras said shortly. He’d found a clean undershirt by now and he pulled it on over his head. “I have agreed to spar with Lord Bryce this morning.”

Renly couldn’t hide his disappointment and he placed an encouraging hand on Loras’ still-bare thigh. “But staying with me would be far more enjoyable?”

Loras raised an eyebrow. “And _far_ less productive.”

Renly rolled his eyes, sitting back on his haunches. It seemed like Loras was going to be difficult to convince this morning and it was without even a twinge of guilt that he made up his mind to resort to dirtier tactics. “I can always go and see your sister instead…” he warned.

The remark slid off Loras like water off a duck’s back though and he only smiled a little cattily. “And I shall wish you good luck with that,” he said. Rising, he pulled the rest of his undergarments on.

Renly couldn’t help but feel a little baffled at that and he sat on the floor silently as he watched Loras strap padding across his chest. It wasn’t like Loras to not be jealous and he wasn’t altogether sure what Loras was trying to imply really. He’d already fucked Margaery once; he was certainly capable of doing it again. He supposed the comment to be a barbed attempt to emasculate him.

“Well maybe I don’t need your luck,” Renly laughed. “I shall go and see her now in fact.” His mind made up, he rose to his feet.

“Alright then,” Loras agreed cheerfully, opening the door for him. “And I hope you enjoy yourself.”

Margaery was still abed when Renly called on her, and unless he was sorely mistaken, it seemed to him that her chambermaid was a little reluctant to admit him. It was only when Margaery said something from inside that the young girl curtseyed and scampered down the corridor.

Margaery was curled up under her covers when Renly stepped into the room and she clearly had no intention of rising soon. Her hair must have been plaited last night but it was tumbling out of its ribbons, rebellious strands escaping all over the place. All in all, she looked a little like she’d been dragged through a hedge backwards and yet Renly imagined that most men would have still salivated to look at her. Alyn would have probably swooned.

“I thought I should pay you a visit,” Renly smiled, sitting down on the edge of her bed. “As I promised.”

Margaery smiled, stretching slightly under the covers. “Which is very kind of you, Renly, but it’s perhaps not the best time.”

Renly frowned. This time last week, she’d been all but begging him to come and call on her. “What do you mean?” he asked.

Margaery closed her eyes. “Well let’s just say you probably wouldn’t want to.”

Her words weren’t very clear but Renly finally understood what she meant. He supposed that this was what Loras had been hinting at too with his earlier remarks, and sighing, he leant over to tuck a loose lock of hair behind her ear. “That means that you’re not with child, doesn’t it?” he asked.

“Sadly.”

There was a silence and Renly wondered whether he ought to stay or not. It seemed terribly rude to get up and leave just because he couldn’t bed her but even he didn’t particularly want to make small talk indefinitely- not when Margaery seemed distinctly less in the mood for idle chit chat than usual.

“Do you have a cyvasse board?” he asked. That was always amusing.

Margaery smiled. “Somewhere,” she said. “But I’m not very practised at it. I could never take the time to study the board.”

That was the case with most people, men and women alike, and Renly was not deterred. He was good at cyvasse and winning was always fun. It would give him a taste of what it was like to be Loras in a joust at least. “I can show you,” he told her.

It took Margaery a while to remember where she’d put the board but Renly laid it out across the bed when she had. It was a nice set, as was fitting for the daughter of a great lord, and a very unusual one at that. Traditionally, cyvasse pieces were black and white as they were said to be in Volantis but these ones were painted in bright colours. The elephants shimmered in deep purples and blues, whilst the dragons’ scales were so intricately depicted in varying shades of red and green that Renly could have believed him staring at a true dragon that had been shrunk by some magician. Even the horses glittered in an array of colours.

Renly explained the board to Margaery in some detail and it was quickly clear that she knew more about the game than she’d been willing to let on. She was still no match for Renly though, and he took her king in less than ten moves.

“You’re good,” Margaery said.

They played again and this time, Margaery lost her king almost as soon as they’d started, so quickly that Renly could have believed the loss deliberate.

“You’re _very_ good,” she corrected with a small laugh.

Renly just hummed. “You become good when you’re the only child in an entire castle,” he laughed, clearing the board so that they could start again. “This was the only game my brother could tolerate actually. He said that it sharpened the mind.”

Margaery smiled, tongue between her teeth as she arranged her pieces out of sight behind the screen. “Did you ever play with Loras? Back in Storm’s End, I mean?”

“On occasions,” Renly said, his own pieces in place now. “I used to suggest we play when I felt that he needed to be taken down a peg or two. He wasn’t very good.”

Margaery laughed and moved her first piece: a heavy horse this time. “Why does that not surprise me?”

Renly smiled. He wouldn’t have expected it to surprise her. Loras was sharp in his own way but he’d never had a head for letters or numbers, or strategy games. It probably didn’t help either that he had no patience for anything that didn’t involve prodding someone with a sharp stick. “Yes,” he agreed. “You’re much better than he was.”

“I should think so.”

Renly laughed. “Well yes. Presumably, you’ll actually learn from your losses and do something different the next time. He always just used to do the same thing, and never moved anything except the catapult and the dragon.” He smiled fondly. He could remember the first time that he and Loras had played cyvasse. He’d been unwell and Loras had played with him to cheer him up. It had been rather sweet of him if Renly remembered correctly.

“You should play with Willas sometime,” Margaery suggested, pulling Renly out of his memories. “He’s very good, nigh unbeatable. Or with grandmother. She actually _is_ unbeatable.”

Renly grinned. “In which case I shall most definitely have to _avoid_ playing with either of them. My fragile pride should not cope.”

Margaery laughed at that and then turned back to the board. This time, she moved one of her horses, one which was painted in a glossy orange. It was more handsome than the usual alabaster or ebony horses and it got Renly thinking.

“Don’t you think the Kingsguard rather drab?” Renly remarked, moving his own rust-coloured horse. “Compared to this lot, I mean?” He turned over one of the coloured pieces in his hand, admiring how it shimmered in the light.

Margaery twisted her plait around her hand. “I’ve never really thought about it.”

“Well do. White is so dull. Wouldn’t they look far more magnificent if each wore a different colour?”

Margaery smiled, resting her head back against her pillow. “Well why not? They’d certainly be more recognisable. And you’re the king. You can dress them in solid gold if you like.”

Renly grinned. He didn’t think she should give him ideas. If the crown didn’t owe millions to the Iron Bank, it would have probably have been a notion he’d have entertained. Although it would definitely have irritated him that Jaime Lannister had done it first; he wouldn’t have wanted to look like he was copying the infamous Lion of Lannister.

There was a noise outside then and before ether he or Margaery could rise, the door swung open a little, a familiar head of curly hair peering round it.

It was Loras and Renly grinned at him from Margaery’s bed. It couldn’t have been any more obvious that he’d just come from the training yard. His curls were sodden, plastered to his forehead with sweat, and his clothes were sticking to him.

“Oh you are here,” Loras said, pushing his damp curls off his face as he stepped inside. “I thought you would have left the poor girl in peace by now.”

Renly rolled his eyes. “Is it a crime to keep one’s wife company?”

Loras just grinned at him. He’d clearly been worked hard down in the yard and he leant back heavily against Margaery’s chamber door, evidently catching his breath. It was unusual to see him this exerted and Renly drank the image in; it was nice to be reminded on occasions that Loras was indeed a mere mortal.

“We were just talking about Renly’s Kingsguard,” Margaery told him, the cyvasse board now forgotten in front of her- a good thing too probably because she’d been on the verge of losing for the third time. “He wants to put you in a different colour each.”

Loras cocked his head. “But I look good in white. Couldn’t we have jewelled armour instead?”

Renly smiled. “Even I draw the line at jewels, Loras. Especially before we take King’s Landing.” He couldn’t deny that he liked the idea though and he scratched his head as he thought of alternatives. “Perhaps that coloured steel though. Like my own armour. Each in a different colour.”

Loras nodded, straightening himself up slightly against the door. “Can’t get steel like that around here though,” he said. “Would have to go to Mott when King’s Landing has fallen.”

He was right of course and Renly couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. He supposed that painted steel would have to do. It wasn’t half as luxurious as the coloured plate that the Street of Steel could produce but it would look similar from a distance. It probably would come in a larger choice of colours too.

Loras had crossed the room now and he leant over the bed to touch Margaery’s hair. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

Renly frowned, turning to her. “You’re not ill as well are you?”

Loras rolled his eyes. “Excuse him, Margaery. Without a mother or sisters, he really doesn’t know anything about women.”

Renly couldn’t deny that. Aside from his nursemaids and the many serving girls at Storm’s End, he had little experience of women or their ailments. “Does it hurt then?” he asked.

Margaery laughed. “It doesn’t _hurt_ ,” she said. “But it does make you ache something terrible. It feels a little like someone is kicking you repeatedly in the stomach.”

That sounded painful enough to Renly and he shifted closer to her on the bed. He didn’t know if it would help but he reached under the covers to rub her stomach anyway. Loras had made him promise that he would look after her and as there was currently a sword at his hip, he thought he’d do well to at least try and act the part. And perhaps it did help, Renly thought, because Margaery had shut her eyes and relaxed a little under his touch.

Loras evidently approved too and he sat down next to them on the bed with a smile. He must have brushed against Margaery’s arm though because she recoiled.

“Gods Loras,” she grimaced, edging away from him. “You’re dripping. How hot is it out there?”

Loras shrugged, using his shirt to wipe his brow. “Rather,” he said. “And unlike some men, I work hard.”

Renly didn’t need to ask to know that that remark was aimed at him and he smirked. “And yet I’m still stronger than you.”

Loras stuck his tongue out at him.

“Well either way, get off my bed, will you?” Margaery prodded Loras hard in the chest. “You can bicker with Renly perfectly fine from over there.”

Rolling his eyes, Loras dragged a stool out from under her dressing table and sat on it.

Renly had to smile. He could see why Margaery had made him move but he’d have been lying if he said that he himself cared. He’d seen Loras in much worse states over the years. When they fucked on particularly hot days, both of them ended up looking like they’d just got out of the bathtub. It had been particularly bad in King’s Landing. Whilst the city was further north than Highgarden and Storm’s End, the heat seemed to suffocate the streets in a way it just didn’t anywhere else.

“Genuinely, Loras,” Margaery laughed, looking him up and down. “How have you ended up like that? Usually you don’t even break a sweat.”

“Garlan challenged me,” Loras grumbled. “After I had pounded Lord Bryce into the dirt.”

Renly grinned. That explained it then. “Who won?” he asked, rather unnecessarily probably. Garlan always won when the two brothers fought.

“We did an hour and called it a draw.”

“An hour?” Renly was impressed. “I’m surprised he didn’t crush you. He usually does.”

Loras glared at him from his stool. “If you must know, both of us were using a flail. It’s not one of Garlan’s strengths. He’s far more formidable with a sword.”

“What’s a flail?” Margaery asked. She’d curled up under the covers again and Renly wrapped an arm around her waist. He wasn’t surprised that she didn’t know what a flail was; it wasn’t a weapon that Loras usually favoured. It was more alike to what Robert would have chosen.

“It’s like a morning star,” Loras told her. “But on a chain.”

Margaery still looked blank. No doubt she had no idea what a morning star was either.

“One of those large spiky balls on a chain,” Renly explained. “That you swing.”

Margaery nodded. “So who fared better? You or Garlan?”

Loras shrugged, his damp hair falling into his eyes. “Neither of us apparently. Garlan has more strength but his aim is painfully bad. Whereas I have better aim and tire easily. I think we both came away from this morning thinking that we shan’t use one again.”

Renly nodded. He wasn’t surprised. A flail wasn’t meant to be wielded by a man of Loras’ frame. It was the sort of weapon that he himself would do better with. “So what shall you be using next week?” he asked.

“Depends,” Loras said.

“On what?”

“If it’s on foot, then I’ll use a sword. If we’re mounted, I’ll at least start off with a lance.”

Renly smiled. “Do you have a preference?” He wasn’t above tailoring the tourney to Loras’ tastes; it was absolutely essential after all that Loras emerged the victor. He meant him to be his Lord Commander and had it not been such a given that he would win in any melee, he would have simply named him such and been done with it.

“Not really,” Loras shrugged though. “I’ll win regardless of how you set it out.”

Renly just laughed. He had no doubt that that was true.

 

* * *

 

 

Renly had promised a melee to choose his Kingsguard but after much discussion with his advisors, the competition was eventually arranged much like a joust. Melees, everyone knew, often revolved around who was savvy enough- or _lucky_ enough- to form makeshift alliances with other fighters in order to bring a far more skilled opponent down. It was with that in mind thus that they decided on individual matches where the winner would proceed to the next round.

It was a fairer system- and one that would ensure that Loras didn’t get taken out by a veritable army of Stormlands knights who banded together out of jealousy for his talent- but it did delay proceedings. Renly had never realised how much work went into the draw at the lists. Unlike a melee, where opponents were just thrown into the ring together, organising a stratified competition involved knowing exactly who would be entering and being able to predict who would advance to the next round. It would not do for instance to have Ser Guyard and Ser Loras meet in the second round.

It was Garlan who Renly sat down with to discuss the final draw. As one of the few knights of Highgarden who wasn’t entering, he was perhaps the only man left in a hundred league radius who still had a good enough overview of the other men’s skills to decide the draw.

“So we’ve finally decided on a date, have we?” Garlan laughed, sitting down at the table in Renly’s chambers. He had a large piece of parchment in front of him but right now it was blank, with not even a date written on it. Clearly he hadn’t trusted Renly not to change it again.

Renly grinned. The date of the tourney had been moved several times now. He thought though that it was probably for the best. It had allowed news of the tourney to spread far and wide and knights had come not just from the Reach and the Stormlands, but from further afield too. Lord Lester, who had already been on his way home from Renly’s crowning, had actually turned back around and headed back just so that he could compete, and Ser Robar Royce of all people had turned up outside Highgarden’s gates late last night. As a knight of the Vale, it was quite a mystery why he was so ready to offer his services. It had been a pleasant surprise though- and a flattering one. Ser Robar’s skill was renowned and Renly meant to have the very best, regardless of where they hailed from.

“Are you sure I can’t convince you, Garlan?” Renly asked. Garlan was perhaps the only renowned knight who seemed to have no interest in competing.

“Quite sure,” Garlan chuckled. He clapped Renly on the shoulder. “You’ll be stealing both my younger siblings away to King’s Landing with you. Willas can’t be left here to rot alone.”

Renly smiled. “I should imagine Ser Loras will sleep easier this week then,” he admitted. It was still a shame though. Garlan was even better than Loras and the pair of them would have looked very good on either side of him with their matching curly hair.

“Speaking of Loras,” Garlan said. “He told me yesterday that you only mean to select six?”

Renly nodded. “I mean to leave the seventh position open for Ser Barristan. His deeds are too legendary for me not to have him.”

“Really?” Garlan’s grin widened. “In which case, I have very good news for you. Word on the road is that Ser Barristan has been dismissed.”

“Dismissed?” Renly was sure he hadn’t understood.

Garlan nodded solemnly though. “Yes, apparently Joffrey said he was too old.”

Renly was stunned. The Kingsguard served for life; everyone knew that. It was unprecedented that a man should be dismissed from the white cloaks.

“Then we should expect to see him,” Renly laughed. “Any enemy of Joffrey’s is a friend of mine, and now that he has been released from his vows, I am his lord paramount as long as I hold Storm’s End.”

Garlan grinned, scrawling Ser Barristan’s name across the top of the piece of parchment. “Now for the others,” he said. “We should be able to work out who should do well.”

Renly nodded. “So who would you put your money on?”

Garlan began scribbling names below Ser Barristan’s. “Loras obviously, and Ser Parmen. Ser Tanton maybe, and Ser Baelor’s eldest lad, forget what his name is. Igon Vyrwel obviously-”

“Who?” Renly had never heard of that name before.

“The captain of our household guard,” Garlan explained. “His style isn’t as _elegant_ as some of the other knights but he can be lethal. Willas, Loras and I cut our teeth on him.”

Renly would have preferred elegant _and_ lethal but he shrugged. He supposed even a king couldn’t have everything all of the time.

“What about your lot then?” Garlan asked. “I’ve got Ser Guyard written down but who else is there?”

Renly paused, thinking. “Well Ser Gladden should do well if he’s not drunk, and Ser Andrew too. I’ve never seen Ser Donnell fight but he comes from good stock.” He’d have rather had Ser Balon but as far as he knew, Ser Donnell’s youngest brother was still in King’s Landing.

Garlan nodded, writing them all down. “What about this Ser Narbert? I had heard him described as competent.”

Renly grimaced. “He’s not bad, but I don’t want him in my Kingsguard. He and Loras would fight constantly. They get on that badly.”

“So we’ll put him against good old Loras in the third round say,” Garlan grinned, crossing out the name with some force. “Get rid of him nice and early.”

Renly smirked; he liked this plan. Leaning over the table, he looked at the list of names that Garlan had written. “How good is Ser Tanton then?” he asked. He was surprised to see that particular name written down. Leonette’s brother always seemed a little bit of a laughing stock to him.

Garlan shrugged. “He’s good actually, but if you want my honest opinion, he’s a liability.”

“Because he’s drunk all the time?”

Garlan grinned, doodling idly with his quill. “That and he’s rash.”

Renly raised an eyebrow. “More rash than Loras?”

Garlan paused. “Probably not,” he admitted. “But he causes more trouble than Loras.” He smiled, scratching his head. “Though you’re not insisting on celibacy, are you?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’d hoped to convince you,” Renly laughed. “And because I wouldn’t mind having Bryce Caron or Beric Dondarrion either- assuming he comes back alive from the Riverlands that is- and they shall both have to marry or else see their line end with them.”

Garlan nodded. “Either way though, Ser Tanton would be an embarrassment. There’s not adhering to vows and then there’s climbing into bed with every noble girl and peasant who will let you…”

Renly grinned. “Might liven the capital up a little.”

Garlan’s eyes twinkled but he shrugged. “Trust me, you don’t want him. You’ll have bastards running around the halls. And he’ll be vomiting after every feast, and trying to fondle your wife when he’s too into his cups to remember she’s wed.”

“Fair enough,” Renly admitted. He smiled widely. “So he should meet Loras in the second round, shall we say?”

Garlan snorted, crossing out Ser Tanton’s name too.

There was a silence then as they both looked down at the list of names. Every single one written there was a skilled knight, with a good family name too, and Renly imagined that he would be proud to have all of them. All young and thirsty for glory, they were worlds away from Meryn Trant and Boros Blount.

Loras’ name was written at the top and Renly smiled at it. “Loras will win, won’t he?” he asked Garlan. He was sure of it already but it was always nice to be agreed with.

Garlan grinned, rocking back in his chair lazily. “Loras?” he asked. “Yeah, he could beat this lot blindfolded. Unless this Robar Royce is the next Jaime Lannister, the gap between him and the next best will be huge.”

Renly grinned too. He wondered if Loras knew just how proud of him he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to remind everyone that I do take requests on this story, so if there's any scene or anything in particular you want to see before this fic ends, I'd get thinking soon. :) 
> 
> And if anyone happens to do any shopping in the Oxford Street branch of John Lewis before Christmas, you can have fun working out which of the shop guides writes slash fanfiction in her spare time!! And then you should definitely come and say hi. My job is ridiculously boring.


	143. Chapter 143

It wasn’t often that Renly regretted a decision. Sat in the top row of the stands at the tourney that would decide his kingsguard, however, he realised now that allowing squires to compete had been a poor choice indeed. When he’d made it, he’d been thinking of Barristan the Bold, who at the tender age of ten had unseated every knight he rode against to win a tourney at Storm’s End; he’d been thinking of a fourteen year old Loras and how he’d sailed through to the quarterfinals in King’s Landing. He had certainly not been thinking of the rabble of young boys in front of him now.

They were clearly deluding themselves, Renly thought with some amusement as he watched a particularly poor match between a squire of Horn Hill and a squire of the Arbour, squires whose names he couldn’t remember and whose names would probably be forgotten by the rest of the crowd as soon as they left the ring. They were barely strong enough to lift their swords and if Renly hadn’t known better, he would have thought that he were watching two children _playing_ at tourney. What was most amusing, however, was the fact that these two boys were by no means the _worst_ competitors of the lot at all. Lord Rowan’s squire had tripped over his feet and had been forced to yield seconds after entering the ring; Ser Gladden’s squire had been so terrified by Igon Vyrwel that he had dropped his weapon in fright; and another’s opening stance had been so poor that his opponent had laughed and corrected it before he would even agree to start the match.

“They’ll all be eliminated soon,” Margaery assured him as the current pair chased each other round the ring. Her tone was reassuring as she whispered in his ear.

Renly just laughed. It made for good watching at least. Every time one of the competitors was _particularly_ poor, he’d catch Loras’ eye across the ring and that was always fun. Loras never hid his disdain and one could usually see the scorn radiating off him in waves.

It was six rounds in by the time that most of the riff raff had been eliminated and only the serious competitors were left. It had not been a smooth journey by any means though. In the fourth round, a swarthy freerider from Dorne hoping to make his fortune had violated the rules by using honed steel and Ser Andrew had been lucky not to have his entire ear taken off. The Dornish man had been disqualified of course but that had caused as many problems as it had solved, as Ser Andrew, bleeding heavily from the wound, had not been fit to progress either. In the end, the man who had been supposed to fight the victor of the match had been allowed to sail through to the fifth round without fighting anyone, only to then have his arm broken by Lord Bryce.

The Dornish freerider was not the only man, however, who refused to abide by the rules. It had been agreed at the start of the tourney that any blow that would have been fatal or incapacitating if the blade were true steel should require the man struck to yield. One knight, however, refused point blank to yield, despite being on the floor with the blunted blade to his neck and despite the Highgarden Master at Arms, who was overseeing the tourney, calling for him to give up several times. Eventually his opponent had kicked him roughly in the head with an armoured boot and knocked him unconscious, to the cheers of the crowd no less.

Renly smiled as he surveyed who he had left. For the most part, his and Garlan’s planning had not been in vain. Loras had knocked out Ser Narbert and Ser Tanton in rounds two and three with ease, although both of them had afterwards complained loudly about the draw to anyone who would listen. Ser Guyard, meanwhile, had incapacitated a rather annoying knight from Cider Hall who Garlan had told him would drive him crazy within the space of a week with all his idle chatter. Ser Igon Vyrwel, however, who Garlan had promised would perform well, had been knocked out by a Ser Emmon Cuy, a knight whose only claim to glory so far was being the fifth son of Sunflower Hall. Renly was glad though. This Ser Emmon Cuy was young and handsome, with smiling eyes and bright sunflowers painted on his armour; he would do much better in his kingsguard than Ser Igon would with his stern look and manner.

“Now it gets exciting,” Margaery whispered, taking Renly’s hand in her own. Her words were directed at him but her eyes were on her brother, standing now at the edge of the ring with the other seven competitors who were left. It couldn’t have been more obvious how proud of him she was.

Renly just hummed, watching Loras too. He was stood between Ser Parmen Crane and Ser Lorton Hightower and for once, he seemed quite relaxed, smiling and chatting to the two knights on either side of him as they watched Ser Gladden be pummelled into the dust by this Ser Emmon. It was a sure sign that he didn’t feel threatened by any of them, that he knew they couldn’t match him in skill.

Ser Guyard was displaying the same brash confidence. He too was watching the first fight of the quarter finals and every now and then he’d puff out his chest and rearrange his cloak across his shoulders. Lord Bryce and Ser Robar Royce were clearly chuckling at his behaviour behind his back but he didn’t seem to notice, preening instead before the crowd like a peacock with its feathers out.

All in all, every knight still standing seemed very sure of themselves indeed and Renly supposed that they had good reason for this. There were only eight of them left now, and the four that reached the semi-finals would automatically be given a place in his kingsguard. The remaining two places meanwhile would be decided by matches between the losers of the quarter finals. For anyone knocked out before this round, however, it was tough luck. Ser Tanton and Ser Narbert could complain about the draw as much as they liked but they wouldn’t be given another chance at proving themselves.

It was of course unfair but Renly couldn’t find it in him to particularly care. He’d narrowed it down to a good selection of knights now, all of whom he imagined he would get on with, and he thought that he probably didn’t mind now who went through. Each of them would do well.

He was beginning to understand, however, what Garlan had meant when he said that Loras could have entered this tourney blindfolded. He’d knocked out Ser Donnel to get to the quarter finals, a highly respected knight, and he hadn’t even broken a sweat. Indeed, Ser Donnel had looked like an inept child beside Loras.

Even now, as he was called against Ser Robar, he didn’t seem perturbed in the slightest. He smirked up at Renly before he took his sword from Tommas Fossoway.

Like all of Loras’ matches, it was a short one, and Renly grinned when Loras passed his sword _back_ to Tommas Fossoway. He hadn’t needed it for long.

Lord Bryce fell to Guyard next, then Ser Lorton to Ser Parmen. The semi-finals were no less predictable and the crowds cheered to see Loras defeat Ser Emmon and Guyard defeat Ser Parmen.

“No surprises there,” Renly laughed to Margaery. He’d known from the start that Loras and Guyard would most likely meet each other in the final and he and Garlan had structured the draw so that this would be possible.

Margaery beamed at him. She was clearly enjoying herself and had she not been a lady and a queen, Renly rather suspected that she might have been cheering and whistling like the smallfolk women in the crowd. As it was though, she was sat with her hands folded daintily in her lap, the only clue to her passion in the way that she’d sometimes grip the fabric of her dress when Loras did something particularly impressive.

The herald was calling for Loras and Ser Guyard now and Renly drained his cup of wine in anticipation, leaning forward to get a better view.

“I should go and get some more,” Alyn said immediately from the row in front of him. “Before the final starts.”

Renly laughed and glanced down. “Don’t be silly,” he said. “You might miss it.”

That seemed to ring true with his squire and Alyn looked wistfully down to where Ser Guyard and Ser Loras were finishing their final preparations. He looked a little awed.

“To think,” he whispered as he settled back down in his seat, “that those are the two men who’ve dedicated hours to training me. Me of all boys who can barely pick up a sword without dropping it.”

Renly grinned. “Yes, well the things people do for me.”

Alyn laughed. “They say that Ser Loras would jump off a cliff if you told him to,” he admitted, dropping his voice so that those around them might not hear. “Ser Guyard too actually, come to think of it.”

Renly smiled, looking down fondly at the both of them. “Ser Guyard might,” he agreed. “Loras wouldn’t.”

“How come?”

“Because he’s not an idiot,” Renly laughed.

“No,” Alyn agreed slowly. “He’s not.” Swivelling round, he leant towards Renly. “Have you ever even seen Ser Loras defeated in single combat, your grace?”

Renly had to think. “Yes,” he said.

Alyn looked surprised; that clearly hadn’t been the answer he was expecting. “Who to?”

“To Ser Garlan.”

“Ser Garlan is better than Ser Loras?”

“Mmm,” Renly hummed as Margaery smiled on next to him. “Just a lot more humble.”

“Aside from that then?”

Renly had to think again. He’d not seen Loras often in single combat if he was honest. The only fight that stood out to him was one that had occurred between him and Red Ronnet at Storm’s End, a fight which Loras had most definitely won. He had to grin though when he realised that he _had_ seen Loras beaten. “Once,” he said.

“Who to?”

“ _Me._ ”

“You?”

Renly laughed at his squire’s expression. “Is it so unbelievable?”

“No,” Alyn started to say before he clearly changed his mind. “Yes. It is unbelievable. You never practise and Ser Loras told me you were mediocre when I asked.”

Renly had to chuckle. He wasn’t surprised that Loras might have described him as mediocre. It was no secret that Loras disapproved of how little he came down to the training yard to work at his skills. “Well I did beat him,” Renly insisted. “You can ask him yourself. And there were witnesses aplenty.”

Alyn still didn’t look like he believed him. “And how long ago was this?” he asked.

Renly scratched his head. He didn’t need to think to know the answer to this question. He could still remember Loras and his dimpled cheeks when they’d fought. “I forget if I’m honest,” he told Alyn though. “Not _too_ long ago.”

A smile tugged at the corner of Alyn’s lips. “With all due respect, your grace, I believe you are lying to me.”

Renly grinned too. “Fine,” he admitted. “A _small_ lie may have escaped my lips.”

“So how old was he?”

“Twelve.”

Alyn snorted at that and as the herald announced the start of the match, they both turned back to watch.

Both knights were ready now and each of them looked a little like a cat about to pounce. It was Ser Guyard who cracked first, and Loras sidestepped his first blow as if he were dancing. He seemed to have some sixth sense, one that forewarned him to Guyard’s movements before he actually moved.

The entire crowd was silent as they watched, mesmerised by the song of steel that rang out. Both men were beyond graceful and their swords arced through the air in great circles as they came together and then separated.

It was Ser Guyard who was already taking steps backwards though and Renly had to admire him even as he approached defeat. His footwork was impeccable, even as he ducked under Loras’ sword and darted out of reach.

It could not last though and in one fluid motion, Ser Guyard was on the floor and Loras was smirking up at Renly in the stands.

 

* * *

 

 

“You could have at least drawn it out a little,” Renly complained to him later. It had been rather a disappointment, the fight between him and Ser Guyard. The real fight of the day had turned out to be between Ser Lorton and Ser Emmon as they battled for the final place in the Kingsguard. That fight had lasted near an hour and Renly had almost been convinced to give Ser Lorton a place in his kingsguard too by the end of it. Both of the men had fought valiantly.

“Why?” Loras asked though.

“I don’t know, to entertain the crowd maybe?”

Loras’ forehead furrowed. “But that would have made it look like we were equals,” he told him bluntly. “I’m good and he isn’t. That makes for a quick finish.”

Renly rolled his eyes. “Well regardless of how little of a show you put on for me, as the victor, I did think that I would treat you tonight.”

Loras raised an eyebrow. “How so?”

Renly reached down to pick up a small purple cushion that he’d placed on the floor. On it lay a golden crown, and very gently, Renly stroked one of the delicate tines with his finger.

Loras’ attention was piqued and he stood still to watch, his ears pricked like a dog that had seen a rabbit.

“Are you going to put it on?” he breathed.

Renly smiled, shrugging lightly. “Perhaps. I did know you wanted me to wear it...”

Silently, Loras took it off the crown of its cushion and placed it on Renly’s head. There was a glint in his eye though and Renly recognised it immediately with a little alarm; it was the expression that he wore when he felt distinctly like fucking something.

The idea was ludicrous and Renly shook his head, laughing. “Oh no, Loras. Don’t you even think about it. That’s not what I meant at all. Not with my crown on.”

Loras cocked his head. “My _treat?_ Is that how you worded it?”

“No, I’m your king and I’m putting my foot down.”

Loras raised an eyebrow. “Are you?”

Renly met his eye. “Yes,” he said.

His refusal clearly only fuelled Loras on further. He eyed Renly a little viciously, and the next moment, his hands were on Renly’s shoulders and he was forcing him down onto the bed.

The crown didn’t survive the tumble and there was a soft thud as it hit the bed.

“What a shame,” Renly laughed. “Now why don’t we leave it where it is and get on with things?” He didn’t mind Loras fucking him but he certainly wasn’t going to let him do it with his crown on.

Loras’ eyebrow arched again and very gently, he placed the crown back on Renly’s head. “I don’t think so,” he said. “Now you’re going to wear this for me and you’re going to like it.”

“And if I refuse?”

Loras twisted Renly’s arm painfully behind his back and Renly yelped, biting down on his tongue painfully. Moments later, he found that he had his face pushed into the bed and both arms twisted behind his back.

Loras yanked down his breeches. “I had hoped to have your co-operation but I shall do just fine without it, _your grace_.”

“You’re to be my Lord Commander,” Renly laughed, the sound of it muffled against the covers. “You’re supposed to be the one protecting me.”

“And if an assassin enters the room while I’m fucking you, I will protect you.”

Renly snorted. He felt absolutely ridiculous but there was no fighting Loras and his whims. He wondered though if any other king in Westeros’ history had been fucked by his Lord Commander, a Lord Commander who had forced him to wear his crown during the deed no less.

Roughly, Loras pushed a finger into him.

“Ouch!” Renly protested, squirming underneath him. “Be kind!”

Loras merely raked a hand down Renly’s back, fingers digging into him through the fabric of his shirt. “My grandmother always used to say that mercy is for the weak,” he whispered.

Renly tried to ignore the fact that Loras had brought his grandmother up right now and reached desperately under the pillow to pass him the vial of oil.

Loras made no acknowledgement of it but when he pushed his finger back into him, it was slick with oil. This time, it slid in more easily and Loras even crooked it to find that spot that would feel good.

“I thought mercy was for the weak?” Renly groaned, pushing back against him.

Loras just hummed. “It is,” he agreed. “But I do love you.” He touched the crown on Renly’s head gently again, settling it better in his hair. “And you are my king.”

“You have a funny way of showing it.”

Loras slid another finger into him, stretching him a little painfully. “Oh do shut up.”

“But-”

Loras didn’t let him finish and instead pushed his head back into the pillow, almost suffocating him.

And Perhaps Renly had been wrong to tease him, for Loras showed him no more mercy after that. Fingers digging into Renly’s hips, he fucked him hard enough to bruise. He bit and he scratched and every time Renly whimpered in pain it merely seemed to spur him on further. The only thing he was gentle with was the crown. Every time it was jostled off Renly’s brow, he picked it up and replaced it. He seemed to get a strange thrill out of placing it there; no doubt it made him feel powerful.

“Gods Loras,” Renly groaned as Loras forced his cock into him again. “Do you hate me or something?”

Loras pressed a very gentle kiss to the back of his neck, presumably a confirmation that this wasn’t the case. That seemed the extent of his compassion though and he pushed into Renly again, rutting against him hard. His breathing was coming quickly now and he knotted his hands in Renly’s hair, fingers clasped too around the gold of his crown.

Renly closed his eyes. It stung but he couldn’t deny it felt good too. Loras was heavy above him, his cock felt tight in his arse, and his strong hands were holding him down. Shifting underneath him, Renly tried to push back against him.

“Renly,” Loras panted though. “Hold still. I’m going to-”

Renly twisted his head round to smirk at him. “So soon?”

Loras yanked on his hair so hard then that Renly yelped. There was no time for him to punish him further though and the next moment, Loras had collapsed on top of him, his cock twitching and warm inside him.

“Well thank you,” Renly laughed. He pulled his crown out of his tangled hair, wincing as he tore out several strands.

Loras rolled off him. “You’re welcome,” he said smugly.

Renly snorted. He was about to insist that Loras do the right thing and finish him off too when there was a knock at the door. It was clearly Alyn’s knock and both of them glanced towards the doorway.

Loras smirked, stretching a little lazily. “What’s the betting that he’s been standing out there waiting for us to finish?”

Renly raised an eyebrow; he wouldn’t have said that they were finished. “He’ll be bringing dinner up,” he explained. “I’ll send him away.”

Loras smiled, rolling leisurely over onto his side and relacing his breeches. “You asked for dinner to be brought up?”

“Mmm. I thought it might be nice, you know, for the king and his new Lord Commander to share a meal together. Clearly you had other ideas though as to how to celebrate...”

The knock came again.

“I’ll just tell him to come back later,” Renly said. Ignoring his throbbing cock for the time being, he pulled his breeches back up too.

Loras frowned though. “I’m kind of hungry,” he admitted. “I could manage dinner.”

Renly rolled his eyes. “You clearly haven’t noticed but I’m not done yet.” He gestured to the bulge in his breeches.

Loras smirked again. “Well that’s alright,” he said. “I can toss you off while we eat.”

Renly ignored him and went to the door. He waited until Loras was off his bed until he opened it though. As he had expected, Alyn was waiting outside with a tray.

“Thank you,” Renly told him, beckoning him through. The dinner looked good and Loras’ suggestion earlier didn’t seem quite as ludicrous as it had done when he’d voiced it.

Alyn placed the tray on the table and Renly realised at the same time as Alyn did that the crown was still on the very rumpled bed.

“Don’t ask,” Renly said quickly.

“Trust me, your grace,” Alyn mumbled, cheeks bright pink. “I really wasn’t going to.”


	144. Chapter 144

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay- I've had terrible writer's block. I think I'm back on track now but you'll have to all give me a kick up the arse.

“No,” Loras said for the tenth time now, as if by rote. It was his name day but there was no excitement in his voice. He didn’t even bother to look up from window where he was sat, instead staring out at the fields which lay beneath Horn Hill.

Renly raised his head off the pillow, unable to help the smile spreading across his face. “Well what’s wrong with Loras the Lilac?” he asked.

“Everything.”

“But it would fit well with the fact that you’re the Knight of Flow-”

“No.”

“The Lavender then?”

“No.”

Renly grinned, running a hand through his hair. “Well I’m out of colours that begin with an L.” Sighing, he rolled over onto his side. “I appreciate that it’s your name day but I’ll have you know that everyone else is obliging me and having colours that fit their names.”

“Not everyone,” Loras corrected, arms folded staunchly across his chest.

“Well Ser Parmen jumped at being the Purple. And Guyard at being the Green.”

Loras raised an eyebrow, his expression mocking. “Guyard didn’t refuse to be green?” he asked dryly. “Well I never. Shocking.”

Renly grinned. Even he couldn’t argue with that. Ser Guyard was never seen without his emerald green cloak as it was. “And Robar is red,” he pointed out. “And Bryce was going to be the blue except that I’m saving it for Ser Barristan.”

“And do I take it that Emmon is _egg yolk_ yellow then?”

Renly rolled his eyes. “Well there aren’t any colours beginning with E and it made sense for him to be yellow because of all those sunflowers on his sigil. Though I suppose egg yolk yellow isn’t actually bad come to think of it…”

“Gods,” Loras sighed, making a face. “You’re not even joking are you?” He rose to his feet. “Well I think I shall be going now, before you completely lose the plot and name me Tyrell the Tangerine or something.”

Renly grinned. “That’s not bad either,” he called out after him. “Don’t you tempt me!”

He just about heard Loras swear out in the corridor and he had to laugh at that. It was unlike Loras to use such vulgar language, even more unlike him to direct it towards him.

It was only a few moments later though that Renly heard footsteps returning and he pricked up his ears expectantly.

“Back so soon?” he laughed.

It was Alyn though who pushed open the door. “Apologies, your grace. It’s only me.”

Renly sat up. He wasn’t too familiar yet with Horn Hill’s layout but he knew that Alyn would have had to pass Loras on his way up. “Is he actually intent on sulking then?”

Alyn frowned; he clearly didn’t need to ask who Renly was referring to. “You say this like Ser Loras engages me in intimate conversation. When in actual fact he merely passed me in the corridor and just about acknowledged my presence.”

Renly tried to supress a smile and failed. “Yes but it’s usually rather obvious when he’s sulking. It tends to be written all over his face.”

Alyn gave a small smile too. “Well then yes, I would guess that he’s intent on sulking.”

Renly grinned, running a hand through his hair. There was something a little pleasing about the fact that Loras was behaving like such a child on his name day. It assured him that age wasn’t changing him any time soon. Loras wouldn’t be Loras after all if he stopped being so petulant.

“And I dare say that you should be ashamed of myself, your grace,” Alyn added a little sternly. “It’s bad luck to make a man sulk on his name day.”

Renly snorted. “Well it’s not my fault he won’t be Loras the Lilac.”

Alyn blinked. “You’re arguing over colours?”

“Not arguing,” Renly corrected. “Bickering.”

“Well I’m sorry to interrupt your _bickering_ , your grace, but Lord Tarly wants you immediately. There’s been a raven.”

Renly raised an eyebrow. “A raven?”

“Yes. From your brother.”

 

* * *

 

 

Renly had to laugh out loud. “Read it again,” he told Tarly. “For the love of the gods, read it again.”

Tarly made to oblige, clearing his throat as he smoothed the parchment out. “I declare upon the honour of my House that my brother Robert left no trueborn heirs,” he read stiffly. “The boy Joffrey, the boy Tommen, and the girl Myrcella have been born of incest between Cersei Lannister and her brother Ser Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer. By right of birth and blood, I do this day lay claim to the Iron Throne of Westeros. Let all true men declare their loyalty."

Just hearing it made laughter well up again in Renly’s throat. “Well,” he said. “ _Incest_. Well I never. And here I was thinking that my brother didn’t have a creative bone in his body.”

Mace Tyrell stiffened as he leant over the writing table to read the letter himself. “Surely the queen would never…” Words clearly failed him and he merely turned a rather unpleasant shade of fuchsia.

Renly leant back in his chair, fighting a grin. “Well I can safely say I never heard anything of the sort in King’s Landing. A pity. Might have livened the place up a little.”

“It’s clearly a lie,” Rowan said. “Fabricated so that he can lay claim to the throne.”

Renly shrugged. Rowan’s tone was so serious whilst he himself couldn’t help but be amused. He had always liked tall tales.

Loras had remained silent up till now but he raised an eyebrow at Renly’s silence. “What?” he asked. “You don’t think it a lie?”

Renly laughed. “Of course it’s not true but if I know my brother at all, I’d imagine that he _believes_ it to be true. He probably saw Jaime and Cersei embrace once and presumed an affair because that constitutes more affection than he shows his own wife in a year.”

There was a breath of laughter around him but it was a little nervous. The king could insult his own brother of course but it evidently wasn’t entirely clear whether they ought to join in or not.

“But what shall we do about him?” Mace Tyrell asked slowly, reaching again for the parchment. “True or not, he has made a claim.” The unsaid part of his sentence rang clear. Regardless of who Joffrey’s father was, Stannis’ claim was still better than Renly’s own.

“We need not do anything,” Tarly grunted eventually, filling the silence. “He hasn’t an army nor the gold to fund an army. He could barely take Rosby. Let alone King’s Landing.”

Renly laughed, and taking the piece of parchment from Mace Tyrell, ripped it cleanly in two. “Yes,” he said. “Let him sit in Dragonstone and write his little letters. The more he tarnishes our new king, the more eagerly I shall be welcomed.”

 

* * *

 

 

They had a feast that night and afterwards Loras and Renly collapsed into bed, too lazy to even bother taking off their clothes. They’d eaten far more than they ought to have done and undoing fiddly fastenings seemed far too much of an effort.

It was raining outside and Renly stared up at the ceiling as he listened to the heavy thud of it against the stone roof. They were further east here than they had been in Highgarden and Renly imagined that this was the tail end of a storm that had swept in from Shipbreaker Bay. Stretched out next to Loras as he was, Renly was glad that he was inside and not camped out on the slopes of Horn Hill like the troops. For once the men were silent outside, no fireside songs or merry tunes ringing out through the night like usual.

No doubt they were wet and miserable and Renly felt sorry for them. He had his own tent set up amongst theirs- a luxurious one lined with silks and furs that he had yet to sleep in- but he knew far too well that even the best tent gold could buy couldn’t keep the water out. It was something that he’d learnt rather quickly growing up at Storm’s End. Water was one of the world’s few unstoppable forces. It seeped through soil, ate away at rock, and no matter how desperately you tried to hold it in your hands, slipped through your fingers like the wind.

“Homesick?” Loras asked dryly, his voice cutting through the silence.

Renly laughed. The rain did remind him of home and he wondered sometimes if Loras could read his mind.

“No,” he chuckled though. “Home is home but it can be awfully dull. I can’t ever remember dancing as much as I have done the last few weeks.”

Loras smiled, his expression just about visible in the candlelight. Slowly, he ran his hand up across Renly’s chest, his touch fond despite their bickering earlier.

“Is that a hint?” Renly asked, doing his best to stifle a yawn.

Loras shook his head lazily. “No. I can’t move.”

Renly wasn’t surprised. He and Loras had had their fill this morning, before they’d even dragged themselves out of bed. Still though, Loras was very overdressed for the occasion at hand and Renly rolled over purposefully, taking great pleasure in sliding Loras’ doublet gently from his shoulders. He had to yank it out from underneath him a little less gently though when Loras refused to lift up his shoulders for him, and perhaps he’d yanked a little too hard for the contents of the pocket sewn into the silk lining spilled across the bed.

“You know,” Renly said as he looked down at the mess he’d created. “My old maester used to say that you can tell a lot about a person from the contents of their pockets.”

Loras propped himself up on an elbow. “So what can you tell about me then?”

Renly propped himself up too. The item nearest to him was a heavy gold key, the key to the chambers he’d been given in Horn Hill. All that told Renly was that he had a room and he moved swiftly on, picking up a few coins which merely told him that Loras’ moneybag was too small for how rich he was. The only remaining item was a white lace handkerchief embroidered with golden roses that Renly had never seen before and he picked it up to examine it.

“What’s this?” he asked.

Loras stretched lazily before answering. “Margaery made it for my name day,” he said. “It’s a favour. For when we reach King’s Landing.”

Renly turned it over in his hands. The stitches were tiny and neat; it seemed that his wife was a very accomplished woman. “A pity it’s white,” he murmured though, fighting a smile.

Loras’ eyes narrowed. “Why? What colour should it be?”

“Lilac obviously.”

Loras glared at him. His heart clearly wasn’t in it though and he laughed. “We both know you’re not going to force a colour on me,” he said.

Renly grinned, reaching out to toy with a lock of Loras’ hair. “And why’s that?”

“Because I always get my way.”

Renly rolled his eyes. He didn’t bother to deny it though and he merely continued playing with Loras’ hair. “So why white then?” he asked, gesturing down to the handkerchief. “I would have thought green and gold the obvious colour.”

“Because she used to make me pretend ones out of the white lace petticoats she’d outgrown. Back when we were children.”

Renly sighed, tucking the lock of hair behind his ear. “Back when you were children…” he echoed. “I can’t believe you’re seven and ten. I still think of you as about fourteen.”

Loras rolled his eyes. “You say this every year.”

“I know but I still remember when you first came. You looked more like Margaery than a warrior.”

Loras just raised a sceptical eyebrow.

“Well you did,” Renly protested. “You were tiny. And sweet.”

Loras’ eyebrow arched further. “Surely not sweet?”

“Well no,” Renly laughed. “That’s just me looking back fondly.”

Loras smirked at that, stretching back out across the bed. “We had fun didn’t we?”

“Oh yes.” Renly had to grin to himself. They’d caused havoc as boys. They’d stolen buns from the kitchen, ruined their clothes climbing trees, and had irritated Penrose so much that he’d chased Loras at least all over the castle trying to discipline him.

Loras just smiled. For a moment he was quiet and then he looped an arm around Renly’s neck. “Renly,” he murmured. “Do you think it will come to war with your brother?”

Renly laughed. The thought was ludicrous. “I very much doubt it. Why?”

Loras shrugged. “Well he’s a useless cunt but he is your brother. I can’t imagine arguing with my brothers.”

Renly allowed himself a smile. “Well it’s different for you. You _like_ your brothers.”

Loras merely hummed and Renly bit back a sigh. He’d been hoping to go to sleep with memories of Loras and him as boys. Instead he suspected his dreams would carry him back even further.


	145. Chapter 145

The march north was a long one. It was a pace that Renly encouraged and he found that he was perfectly happy meandering slowly between the various holdfasts which lay on the road to King’s Landing. They were given a royal welcome everywhere they went, such a royal welcome in fact that Renly soon made it his policy to linger in every castle as long as he feasibly could, only moving on when he finally ran out of things to amuse him.

This week, they were being hosted at Longtable by Lord Orton and his wife and so far Renly was finding it to be a marvellous place indeed. The modest castle sat on the southern bank of the river Blueburn, just before its waters joined those of the Mander, and offered very pretty views of the surrounding countryside. There was plenty of game to hunt and plenty of trails to ride, and Lady Taena surrounded herself with a lively group of girls which kept both Margaery and the younger knights of the host entertained.

It was by far the loveliest place Renly had stayed in since they’d left Highgarden and he had already vowed to stay at least until his name day. Even his room was more agreeable than the already high standard that he had come to expect over the past few months. Even though funds were low, as a woman of the Free Cities, Lady Taena had styled her rooms in the Myrish fashion. Thick silks hung from intricately carved wooden bedposts and the best Myrish lace that gold could buy shaded the windows. There was taste in every corner- a good change indeed from the bare practicality that had been the case at Horn Hill- and Renly was busy appreciating a particularly luxurious wall hanging when his admiration was interrupted by footsteps coming down the corridor.

The door was already ajar and Renly was unsurprised to see Alyn pop his head round it. “Your grace,” he said quickly, “the Lady Margaery to see you. _Queen Margaery_ , I mean.”

Renly laughed, rolling his eyes a little fondly. Even after all these weeks, it was more often than not that Alyn slipped back into old habits and called him Lord Renly. This time, however, it was Margaery’s title he’d forgotten, a much more forgivable sin indeed.

“One out of two this time,” Renly grinned. “You’re clearly getting better.” He waved him off back down the corridor. “Well go bring her in then. It’s rude to keep a queen waiting.”

Margaery had apparently been listening down the hall, for she came bouncing in before Alyn had even moved from the doorway. Her hair was loose today and her dress simple. Judging from the expectant look on her face, Renly suspected that the dress had been chosen because it would be easy to take off.

“Anything in particular?” he asked her, when Alyn had had the grace to shut the door and make himself scarce.

“That depends,” she said lightly, a knowing look on her face.

Renly stifled a yawn. Loras’ precise whereabouts were unknown to him this evening but if he were being quite honest, he couldn’t be bothered with what Margaery wanted all the same. He knew though that refusing her wouldn’t be the sensible decision. Even now his courtiers made frequent reference to _when the queen is with child._ It was clearly something that was expected to happen soon.

“Go on then,” Renly laughed, sitting back down on his bed. “I shouldn’t want you to drink that foul dandelion tea for nought after all.”

A wide smile on her face, she stepped out of her dress.

Renly had to bite back a sigh as she approached him. Of all the chores he was expected to do as king, this was the worst, only perhaps because it was the one that he couldn’t delegate to somebody else. It wasn’t that it was _difficult_ exactly or even unpleasant; it was just that it was tedious. It was strange really, how Margaery’s touch felt so different from Loras’, purely because she was a girl.

It seemed to hurt her less and less though each time and Renly took a little pride in that. He sat her on him as usual today and she seemed quite content to do all of the work whilst he sat back against the headboard and shut his eyes. It clearly felt good for her, especially when she slipped her hand between them for her to rub against, and Renly supposed it was a good thing that at least one of them was enjoying themselves.

Renly still had his eyes shut when he heard the door swing open and he knew who it was even looked. There was only one person after all who Alyn let come and go as he pleased.

And as Renly had known would be the case, Loras was standing in the doorway when he dared to open his eyes. He was frowning, his expression a little bewildered. Slowly, he blinked, as if he expected the scene in front of him to change.

Margaery had pushed herself up against Renly as soon as the door had stirred and Renly groped blindly for the covers that were pooled around her waist, trying to protect her modesty. “Um Loras?” he breathed. “Now probably isn’t the _best_ time.”

“Well don’t mind me. I can wait.” The bewildered expression had faded now and, eyes narrowed, Loras sat down stiffly on the chair by the door. Arms folded across his chest, he glared at the both of them menacingly.

“ _Loras…_ ”

“What?”

“Well this is just a little awkward, isn’t it?” Renly said, exasperated.

“Is it? I hadn’t noticed.”

Renly rolled his eyes. Margaery looked like she wanted to laugh atop him and, knowing they were fighting a lost cause here, he lifted her off him, wrapping her in his bedcovers so that she could spare her blushes. He wasn’t sure what to do himself. His first instinct was to hide under there with her but that seemed silly when he thought about it. Loras after all saw him naked several times a day.

It was different though in Margaery’s presence and he’d just settled for reaching for his breeches when there was yet another noise from outside: this time a knock at the door.

All three of them froze, Margaery clutching the covers around her even more hopelessly whilst Loras’ ears pricked up like a dog’s.

“It’ll only be Alyn,” Renly said quietly. He knew that it unlikely that Alyn would come in uninvited but he wished that the door was bolted all the same.

“Then we should ignore it?” Margaery whispered, her voice half a laugh. “This isn’t exactly a situation that we want the squire to witness.”

Loras shrugged, wrinkling his nose. “Or alternatively, both of you could get dressed and then he wouldn’t have to witness anything.”

Renly was just about to argue with him when the knock came again.

Margaery sighed, winding her hair around her finger. “Perhaps we should answer it,” she sighed. “He knows I’m here after all as he brought me in. It must be that he’s come with something important.”

She’d looked at Renly but it was Loras that got up. Bending, he retrieved Margaery’s dress off the floor and chucked it at her. He averted his eyes as she dressed, sitting himself irritably down on the bed with his face turned away. The message was clear; nothing more would be going on tonight. Not between his lover and his sister at least.

“Fine.” Renly conceded, rolling his eyes. It was irritating to have got so far and yet not finished but he pulled his doublet and breeches on all the same to head to the door.

Alyn was indeed outside. He wasn’t alone though and Renly blinked to see him flanked by the Maid of Tarth of all people. He wished now that Margaery had thought to tidy her hair, or at the very least to do up all of the fastenings on her dress. Glancing at the maid, however, Renly was surprised to see that her face was solemn. She was looking only at him, and if she’d even noticed Margaery’s dishevelled state and her brother’s presence in the king’s bedchamber, it didn’t show in her expression.

“My lady,” Renly greeted, trying to ignore the fact he was barefoot and not properly dressed. “What can I help you with?”

“Ser Garlan sent me, your grace. He says he needs to speak with you.”

“Is it urgent?” Renly didn’t really know why he asked. Anything was better than having Loras and Margaery play tug of war with him.

She nodded solemnly. “He wanted to speak to you right away.”

Renly sighed and glanced at Margaery. She shrugged. She clearly knew too that they were fighting a lost cause here. With or without Garlan’s intrusion.

“Fine,” Renly told the maid. “Tell him I'll receive him now then.”

She nodded and turned to leave, Alyn hot on her heels. No doubt he thought it imprudent to stay.

Renly rolled his eyes once the door was shut. “Are there any more Tyrells that I should be having in my bed chamber? he grumbled. “Perhaps we should have invited Willas too. I dare say he'll feel left out.”

Only Margaery laughed. Loras on the other hand just continued to glare sulkily at him.

Garlan arrived shortly. Unlike the Lady Brienne, he instantly took in Loras sat on Renly's bed. At first he didn't seem surprised, and then he seemed to notice Margaery too. He glanced back at Renly then, looking him up and down and no doubt registering the rather dishevelled state of his clothing.

He walked into the room with a wide grin. “I'd ask what the three of you are doing in here,” he chuckled. “But I suspect I don't want to know.”

“That's probably for the best.” Margaery agreed, siting back down on the bed and getting herself comfortable. Loras just shrugged irritably.

Garlan laughed heartily. “Well I'm sorry to interrupt. But I have important news. The Starks have captured the Kingslayer.”

Loras sat up, his bad mood clearly forgotten. “They have? How?”

Garlan grinned, leaning lazily against the doorframe. “The reports are sketchy. On the road they’re saying that the Young Wolf captured him himself, whilst riding on the back of a great direwolf.”

Loras snorted. “I'll believe that when I see it.”

Garlan shrugged, a wide smile still on his face. “Well however they got their hands on him, they have. Which puts them in a very good position with the Lannisters.” He turned to Renly. “Tarly thinks we ought to send envoys to Riverrun.”

Loras interrupted almost as soon as the words were out of Garlan’s mouth. “I'll go Renly. Send me.” He’d sat up like an arrow from a bow.

“No,” Renly cut him off. He thought back to what Penrose had said before he'd departed back to Storm's End. He’d told him to keep Loras close, to keep him safe. Those words rang in Renly’s head now and he moved almost instinctively to Loras’ side. “No,” he said again, forcing his hand to remain at his hip instead of migrating to Loras’ curls as was usual. “I will do no such thing. I suggested an allegiance in King’s Landing. Ned Stark might as well have spat in my face.”

“Robb Stark may not be the man his father was.” Garlan said evenly.

Renly shrugged. “Perhaps. But I will not ask again. Kingslayer or no Kingslayer, we outnumber the Starks fivefold. If the young wolf wants an allegiance, he will come to me.”

Garlan nodded, his usual smile wavering for just a moment. “You should inform Tarly yourself then. He was quite adamant that we send envoys. He wanted to send that lady knight of yours. To get her out of the camp. Apparently she's causing trouble among the men.”

Renly frowned. That was news to him. “I suppose I should go and inform him now,” he sighed. “I get the feeling that Tarly isn’t a man to be kept waiting.”

Garlan nodded. “I'll tell him you’re on your way then.” Grinning, he looked from Renly and Loras to Margaery. “I'll take my leave now then shall I?” Bending in a mock bow, he turned to leave and Renly could have sworn he winked at Margaery.

Renly let out another sigh once the door was shut, returning to Margaery on the bed. “As you were here first, you may wait here for me.” He turned to Loras and allowed himself a very brief touch to his hair. “As for you… You go to bed and I’ll see you in the morning. Hopefully in a better mood.”

Loras grimaced. “We’ll see.”

Renly rolled his eyes, and set himself to fixing his clothes.

 

* * *

 

 

Tarly was sat in his pavilion when Renly found him and Garlan must have warned him that Renly didn’t want to send envoys to Riverrun because his expression was even grimmer than usual.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you,” Renly laughed as he took a seat. “But you shan’t change my mind.”

“I would strongly advise you to,” Tarly told him. As usual, there was no pleasantries with the stern lord of Horn Hill.

Renly resisted the urge to sigh. “And why is that?”

“Because the last thing we want is the Starks making peace with King’s Landing,” Tarly said, his tone vehement. “As it stands currently, Tywin Lannister has his forces stretched. If he makes peace on the northern front, his attention turns to us.”

Renly shrugged. “Yes but if they’re going to make peace, they’ll do it long before our envoys reach them. And really, what does it matter? The Lannisters haven’t half the men they need to repel a host of our size.”

It was grudgingly that Tarly agreed, nodding curtly. “But what of your brother,” he pressed. “For all we know, he may have already sent envoys of his own.”

Renly wanted to laugh. “You don’t know my brother as I do, Lord Randyll. Dorne will freeze over before my brother sends envoys to a man who’s claiming a portion of _his_ kingdom for his own.” He grimaced. “And for once, I agree with him. I mean to rule a kingdom that is whole and I shan’t have this _King in the North_ grow too big for his boots by flattering his ego with envoys.”

Tarly ran a hand over his bristled beard. “As you wish, your grace,” he agreed tightly. He clearly wanted to say more.

Renly had to fight the urge to roll his eyes at his tone and it took all his resolve to remember that Tarly wasn’t Penrose and that he had to be spoken to gracefully. “I apologise, Lord Randyll,” he insisted, with all the sincerity he could muster. “I suppose you shall have to find another excuse to send Lady Brienne out of camp now.”

Tarly’s expression hardened even further. “No excuse needs to be found, your grace. She is a lady. She belongs with her father or with a husband. In Tarth.”

Renly smiled to himself. Tarly might not think that if he’d actually _seen_ her in Tarth. Never before had he ever seen a more awkward girl. “So she’s been causing trouble, has she?” he asked. “It’s the first I’ve heard of it.”

Tarly pursed his lips. “She distracts the men.”

Renly raised an eyebrow, thoroughly baffled. “Really?” he laughed. “I would never have called her _pretty_ exactly.” He wouldn’t voice it but if he were being completely honest, he’d have insisted to Tarly that she was one of the most homely girls he’d ever laid eyes on. He still remembered how Red Ronnet had passed over an eventual lordship in Evenfall Hall on account of her ugliness.

“That as it may be, the men have still found cause to make sport of her. I have put a stop to it but there was talk of… _wagers_ some time ago.”

Renly frowned. “What kind of wagers?”

Tarly paused. “To take her maidenhead,” he admitted grimly. “It was a competition of sorts.”

Renly just blinked. Whatever he had been expecting, it hadn’t been that.

 

* * *

 

 

Renly had to laugh when he finally returned to his chambers to find that Loras had made himself comfortable in his bed.

“So you’re here, are you?” Renly asked. “I thought I had given clear instructions.”

Loras just rolled his eyes.

“Did you force Margaery out?”

Loras shrugged. “She was in my spot.”

It was Renly’s turn to roll his eyes. He didn’t bother arguing though. Fair or not, it was always Loras’ company he wanted and he began readying himself for bed without a fuss. For once he actually put on a nightshirt. Somehow he didn’t think that Loras would be in the mood for their usual activities tonight.

“What took you so long anyway?” Loras grumbled as he watched him change. “You’ve been gone ages.”

“Tarly wouldn’t take no for an answer,” Renly told him wearily. “And then he wanted to complain about the fact we have a lady in the camp.”

Loras bristled. “If he’s talking about my sister-”

“No not your sister, you idiot. I meant a lady amongst the _soldiers._ I knew you weren’t listening earlier.”

“Oh. The Tarth girl?” Loras sniffed at the name, a rather surly scowl forming on his face.

Renly smiled fondly. He still remembered a jealous thirteen year old who had been offended that his lord had danced with the ugly girl instead of paying him all his attention.

Loras must have read his mind. “Don’t you dare bring it up,” he muttered, talking to the bedclothes more than anything. “I was young.”

“What was it you said?” Renly chuckled as he climbed into bed beside him. “That I pander to her affections?”

“Well you do,” Loras retorted bitterly, scowling into the pillow. “She clearly adores you. She _cried_ at your wedding. And what do you do? Instead of sending her back to Tarth like you ought, you let her stay and obsess over you.”

Renly hadn’t known that she’d cried at his wedding but it didn’t surprise him. A lot of girls had seemed teary eyed as he’d wed the girl both prettier and richer than them. He felt like the Tarth girl’s tears probably meant more somehow. She’d admired him now for many years after all.

“Perhaps I should have sent her home,” he sighed. “Tarly says she’s causing a nuisance.”

Loras just hummed.

“You won’t believe it when I tell you,” Renly added with a chuckle. “Apparently the men were making _wagers_ over who could take her maidenhead.”

Loras didn't say anything.

Renly frowned, searching Loras’ face. “You already knew, didn't you?”

Loras shrugged, his face stony in the candlelight. He didn’t bother to deny it. “I can promise you I wasn't taking part,” he mumbled.

Renly bit back what he wanted to say. He always forgot that Loras could be rather cruel when the mood took him. “Who then?” he asked.

“Nobody worth your notice. The Horn Hill men.”

Renly sighed. “Poor maid. I wonder if she knows how absurd she looks, dressing up in a man’s mail and pretending to be a knight?”

Loras shrugged. “Doubt it. She’s barely bright enough to string a sentence together.” He raised his face to Renly’s, his scowl returning. “Why do you let her stay then, if she’s so grotesque?”

Renly sighed heavily. _Grotesque_ wouldn’t have been the word he’d have used but he thought on the question regardless. If he were honest, it hadn’t really occurred to him to refuse the girl permission to stay. “It’s hard to explain,” he said.

“Try.”

Renly paused, pushing his hair off his forehead. “Well I had no reason to refuse her,” he said softly. “She asks for nothing.” He laughed ruefully. “And I’m not stupid, Loras. Men follow me because they like me. But they all want something in the end. Castles or lands, or lordships… Whereas Brienne? All she wants is to die for me.”

“I'd die for you.”

Renly rolled his eyes. “And some use that would do.”

“And I ask for things do I?”

Renly rolled his eyes. “That’s neither here nor there,” he sighed. “Regardless of whether you ask or not, you get everything.” He kissed Loras' curls. “Always, Loras.”


	146. Chapter 146

As it happened, Renly was not able to spend his name day at Longtable. Under pressure from his councillors- and under even more pressure from a very impatient Loras- Renly had agreed to leave the comfort of Lord Merryweather’s home and make for one of the knightly houses that lay to the north. It wasn’t a large distance to cover after all and the route was a pleasant one that would take them along the banks of the river.

As dusk fell on the eve of his name day, however, Renly was beginning to regret that he had been so easily swayed. The weather didn’t seem to care that he would be turning one and twenty on the morrow and the rains had rolled in mercilessly from the east, turning the road into a river of mud that sucked at the horses’ hooves. As the first few drops had fell, he’d insisted that they press on and yet he was beginning to realise now that that command had been in vain. His fine vair-trimmed cloak was already soaked through, his boots were filling up with water, and with the next holdfast still several miles ahead of them, it didn’t take a man of the citadel to know that they were in for a miserable night.

It was reluctantly though that he agreed to camp on the road for the night- or in House Camberell’s fields to be more precise- and even his luxurious tent brought him little comfort as he resigned himself to the situation and settled down for the night with Loras. It was cold that evening, surprisingly so as soon as the sun had set, and Renly soon found himself shivering despite his many furs. Rain was pooling on the roof of his tent, seeping slowly through the fabric and dripping onto his face in large droplets; the brazier that Alyn had lit so carefully earlier had fizzled out, and to be quite honest, Renly would have much rathered be sleeping inside even a modest peasant’s hut than on his damp feather mattress.

He had to feel even sorrier though for the kingsguard who was posted _outside_ his tent. They would be standing alone, in wet clothes and with no shelter at all from the elements. Rolling over in his damp bed, Renly tried to study the dim pacing shadow that the moonlight was casting against the thick fabric. It was hard to glean much information from a shadow and, idly, he wondered which one of his unlucky guards it was. Ser Guyard and Lord Bryce at least would be used to the rain, he supposed. Ser Robar too perhaps; for having never ventured further than Castle Darry, Renly had little idea after all what the weather was like in the Vale. As for Ser Parmen and Ser Emmon, however, it was likely that they would find the prospect of standing in the rain a very miserable one indeed. Ser Parmen’s beloved Red Lake lay to the west, so far west that it sat on the very border with the Westerlands. The weather was mild on that coast and the sunset sea gentle and warm: a world away from Shipbreaker bay. Sunflower Hall meanwhile sat on the southron coast and enjoyed the same sunshine that made the Arbour reds so sweet.

It had no doubt been a glorious place to grow up and Renly rather wished that he were there now. He’d be drinking wine perhaps, or sunning himself merrily in a garden filled with sunflowers. He’d certainly not be spending the night before his name day in a tent that was beginning to leak.

Another bead of water dripped onto his face then and sighing, Renly stared up at the damp ceiling above him. He supposed he should count his blessings and be grateful that he had Loras next to him. Loras at least was warm, he was soft, and he didn’t tend to mind too much either when he was clung to all night. Shifting over, Renly pushed the furs aside and tried to get closer to him.

Loras was only half awake though and he batted Renly’s hands away clumsily. “Go back to sleep,” he mumbled. “It’s not your name day quite yet.”

Renly caught his hands in his, interlocking their fingers. “I can’t,” he whispered. “I’m cold.”

Loras opened his eyes blearily, staring at Renly without really seeing him for a few moments. “Come here then,” he yawned. Opening his arms, he moved closer, hugging Renly tightly to his chest. His embrace was warm and soft, a welcome refuge from the cold night air.

“Why don’t you call Alyn to relight the brazier,” he murmured sleepily against Renly’s hair. “If you’re so cold.”

Renly bit back a sigh. “I can’t call him when you’re here,” he pointed out. A little cruelly, he pressed his cold fingers to the back of Loras’ neck.

That seemed to wake Loras up a little and he rubbed his eyes, yawning again into Renly’s neck. “But he’s seen us abed before. He’ll live.”

“Yes but I don’t want to wake him. He’s probably cold and wet too.”

Loras nodded, peeling Renly's cold fingers off the back of his neck and blowing on them. “Then do it yourself.”

Renly paused, pulling the covers more tightly around them. “I don’t know how,” he admitted. “I never learnt.”

Sighing, Loras clambered out of bed without further ado, the sheets rustling as he left their warmth. Soon, there was a fire lit in the brazier and then Loras was climbing back in. Reaching across the mattress, he took Renly’s cold hands back in his own, rubbing them back and forth until they were warm from the friction. It was only when he seemed satisfied that the chill was entirely banished that he let go, wrapping his arms instead around Renly’s chest and tucking the furs around their necks.

He was back asleep in moments and Renly watched him in the flickering light that the brazier now threw across the tent. His expression was soft in sleep and Renly didn’t think he could have been lovelier. It meant a lot somehow that he’d lit the fire for him. Loras was a proud boy; he was the most renowned tourney champion since Jaime Lannister, and it warmed Renly’s heart to know that Loras was still willing play squire to him even now. It was proof of his affection more than any words could be.

Though he'd been quick, Loras had clearly kindled the fire more skilfully than Alyn, for it didn’t burn itself out like the last one had. It soon warmed the tent through and Renly must have slept, for when he next opened his eyes, it was light and Loras was leaning over him.

“Good morning,” Loras smirked. “Feeling ancient yet?”

Renly just smiled contentedly. Loras’ fingers were already pressing softly through the fabric of his nightclothes; his intention was clear and as he came more to his senses, Renly felt his stomach twist in anticipation.

It was only a split second though before Renly remembered where they were and he stifled a groan. “We shouldn’t,” he yawned, trying to sit up under the mountain of furs. “Not out in the open like this.”

Loras made a face. “ _Out in the open_ ,” he scoffed. “The nearest tents are twenty yards away. And I’m not an idiot. I’m not going to scream your name.”

Renly rolled his eyes. “Well that would be a change...”

Loras just shrugged innocently, a devilish shine in his eyes. “So what do you say?”

Renly smiled, stretching out across the mattress lazily. “I would, Loras. I really would. But there’s a kingsguard right outside.” He gestured to the shadow against the tent wall; it was even more obvious in daylight.

Loras cocked his head to the side, another smirk coming to his face. “And what of it?” He ran a warm hand up Renly’s thigh, his fingers massaging the skin through the fabric.

Renly closed his eyes, weighing up the risks silently. Loras’ hand was fast approaching more intimate areas and Renly could already feel his reason beginning to slip away. “Well do they already know?” he asked a little breathlessly. “About what we do together, I mean?”

Loras’ eyes twinkled above him, his hand palming his cock now through his nightshirt. “Do you really want to know the answer to that?”

Renly screwed his face up. “No.”

Loras grinned, fingers squeezing slightly. “Good answer.”

That made Renly’s stomach lurch and he scowled. “I’ve changed my mind,” he insisted. “Tell me.”

“Then no,” Loras said with an even wider grin, “they don’t.”

His response was too quick somehow and Renly raised an eyebrow. “You’re lying to me,” he ventured, searching Loras' face. “Aren’t you?”

Loras merely shrugged and kissed the corner of his mouth. “Guess you’ll never know.”

Renly knew he was lying, even as Loras leant in to kiss him. All Loras was doing was sparing him the embarrassment of knowing the truth. After all, his new guard couldn’t _not_ know. The entirety of his former retinue knew and whilst most of them were honourable enough, there was also those who would spread rumours. Ser Narbert in particular sprung to mind. He’d hated Loras since they’d been boys and Renly imagined that he took great pleasure in doing his best to taint Loras’ reputation.

“It’s all right either way,” Loras whispered in his ear, his voice like warm honey against his skin. “It’s Ser Guyard’s watch at the moment. And we both know he’s heard it all before.”

As Lord Commander, it was Loras who arranged the guards’ shifts and Renly wondered whether he’d arranged this on purpose. For Loras was right; Ser Guyard _had_ heard it all before. Whereas some of the other guards might be shocked, Ser Guyard would likely take it in his stride. All the same though, Renly felt a little trepidation at the thought of bedding Loras within his earshot.

Loras merely grinned at his reluctance though. “Do you not want me?” he asked. There was only a slightly petulant edge to his voice.

“Of course I want you,” Renly laughed.

“So what’s stopping you then?” Gently, he slipped his hand up Renly’s nightshirt, his fingers finally finding bare skin and his cock pressing into Renly's stomach as he shifted onto his side. “ _And_ ,” he added. “Seeing as it’s your name day, I’ll even promise to let you be as gentle as you want.”

Renly smiled, resisting the urge to roll his eyes even as he gave in and returned Loras' rather searching kisses. It was no secret that Loras liked him to be very rough with him. They both knew that it was mainly for Renly's benefit that Loras let him cuddle and cosset him when they went to bed together.

Today, however, Loras was true to his word and he let Renly be as gentle as he liked with him as they moved together on the feather mattress. Eyes half closed, he lay quietly under Renly's hands as he was kissed all over, not even complaining when the kisses were feather light without even a scrape of teeth. He was patience himself and he let Renly press soft teasing kisses to any patch of skin that took his fancy: his chest, his neck, even the inside of his wrists and elbows. He even let Renly move him around and reposition him like a puppet.

“How come it’s my name day and I’m doing all the work?” Renly chuckled as he eased Loras’ smallclothes over his head.

Loras just smiled in the morning light, dimples forming in his cheeks. “Don’t lie,” he murmured. “You love it when I’m like this.”

“Like what?”

Loras shrugged, his eyes closing. “Docile, I suppose.”

Renly laughed. He did like Loras like this. He’d clearly not been awake long and he was still soft and pliable from sleep. It was the rare times like this that he was more like a kitten than a tiger, that he’d let himself be cossetted without rolling his eyes, and that he’d consent to being pulled around like a rag doll might be by an over-enthusiastic child.

“How do you want me then?” Loras asked with a small yawn. “Presumably underneath you?”

Renly rolled his eyes. “Did you have to sound so bored?” he laughed. “But yes, if you don’t mind.”

Loras just smiled a little wickedly and rolled obediently over onto his back. Relaxed as he was, it didn’t take long to stretch him open and yet he whined all the same when Renly finally pushed into him, having to spread his knees to make it easier.

Renly kissed his bottom lip. “You all right?” he murmured quietly. Even now he was conscious of Ser Guyard's presence outside.

Loras merely tilted his head to meet him in a proper kiss, parting his lips in the most inviting fashion. It was a reassurance that he was fine and almost as if to prove his point, he wrapped his legs tightly around Renly’s waist, gripping him tightly. it was a motion that felt divine and Renly rocked up into him eagerly, biting back a groan. He always forgot how good it felt when they were pressed this close together, closer really than any two men should rightly be.

And a little desperately, Renly beckoned him closer still. “Loras,” he murmured.

“What?”

Renly pressed his lips back to Loras’. “I adore you, you know.”

The words were half lost in the kiss but Loras smiled. “I do know,” he whispered back. “And the feeling’s mutual.”

Renly closed his eyes happily. Soft words from Loras never failed to hit their mark and spurred on, Renly pushed into him a little harder. He knew that they were already as close as they were going to get but he felt he had to try. One day perhaps, they would manage to get so close that they'd cease momentarily to be separate from each other and then Renly would finally understand what the septons meant when they talked of one flesh.

And perhaps he'd almost managed it, for Loras gasped loudly, his eyes shivering shut in pleasure.

It was a pleasant sound and yet Renly had to roll his eyes in exasperation, reaching quickly for one of his pillows and pressing it over Loras’ mouth to hush him. It was an odd sight, one that reminded him of how Loras had looked in his rooms at Storm’s End before they’d stopped being so careful and he had to smile fondly even as he thrust back into him.

Loras, however, didn’t seem so amused. “Are you trying to suffocate me?” he gasped, prying the pillow away.

Renly grinned, brushing Loras’ hair off his forehead. “I’m a king and it’s my name day. It’s my prerogative to do whatever I like. Even suffocate you.”

Loras merely smiled innocently and then bit down on Renly’s bottom lip so hard that it made him yelp.

“ _Loras!”_ he hissed. That too came out louder than he’d intended and he could have sworn that he heard Ser Guyard whistle awkwardly outside, as if he were perhaps trying to drown something out.

 

* * *

 

 

They dozed afterwards and when Renly next woke there was no sign of Loras. Nor was there any sign still of last night’s rain. The sun was high in the sky now and it streamed brightly through the tent door, which, oddly, seemed to have been left ajar.

Alyn too was nowhere to be seen and so Renly dressed himself, choosing the finest garments in honour of his name day despite the fact that he’d likely spend the entirety of it in the saddle.

The sunlight almost blinded him when he stepped outside. He was pleased to see though that it was Loras’ turn outside his tent door, which explained perhaps why it was partly open. Unlike the rest of his cohort, Loras clearly didn’t feel shy about invading his king’s privacy. Indeed, Renly suspected that Loras rather liked being able to keep one eye on him, especially when he was protected by something as flimsy as a tent.

“Finally,” Loras said when he saw him. “I thought you were never going to wake. And I have a surprise for you.”

Renly blinked. “A surprise?”

“Yes," Loras told him. He paused, and it was clearly only to tease him. "Our armour is ready.”

Renly grinned at that. He had commissioned the Rainbow Guard’s armour whilst at Longtable. It had been a task that he’d very much enjoyed and he still smiled to think of how Lady Taena and her girls had swooned over the designs. It had been the finest steel that he had asked for, lightweight but durable and with orders for it to be painted in gloriously bright colours.

“Well where is it?” Renly asked, unable to keep the excitement out of his voice. He’d been looking forward to this day for the past fortnight.

“Well it was brought up yesterday morning actually,” Loras said mildly. “But I thought we should wait.”

“ _Wait?”_ Renly asked. That was a foreign word to him. “Well we shall certainly wait no longer. Where shall I see it? Surely not in this muddy field?”

Loras rolled his eyes. “No. We’d thought to take our vows in Bitterbridge. But it shall have to be in Camberell now. The village is only a mile or so. We can ride ahead and the foot can catch up.”

Renly reached inside his tent to hurriedly grab his cloak. “Well when do we leave?”

Loras shrugged. “Well the men are ready to go. So as soon as Margaery is ready really.”

Renly didn’t need telling twice.

They found Margaery in her tent and Renly was pleased to see that she was at least part way through dressing. Oddly though, her handmaidens were nowhere to be seen and it was Garlan who was helping her. A bright turquoise, the dress was stitched from panels of silk and boned in the bodice. It was clearly quite a tight fit and Garlan had clearly got quite red in the face trying to get her into it.

Renly watched them for a few moments, a little bemused. “I didn't have you down for a handmaiden, Garlan?” he asked.

Margaery laughed. “I don't know where they've got to,” she said. “Garlan will do just as well. Better even. He has a lot more strength.”

Loras smirked, looking Garlan up and down disparagingly. “You sure about that, Margaery? He doesn’t seem to have got very far.” Indeed, the dress hadn’t yet taken much shape. It was still hanging around her midriff like a curtain.

Garlan just grinned though. “Well you try getting her into this thing when she hasn’t got her bedpost to hold onto. She just topples over if I pull too hard.”

Loras snorted. “Amateur,” he muttered. Rolling his eyes, he wrapped his arms around Margaery’s waist, anchoring her there.

Renly watched, amused as Loras braced himself and Garlan pulled once more on the laces of Margaery’s bodice.

“You know,” he said. “I really don't envy women these silly dresses. They look terribly uncomfortable.”

Margaery shrugged, smiling. “I guess you get used to it. Much like men get used to moving in armour. I can't even lift what Loras and Garlan wears.”  
;  
Renly laughed. “I suppose you're right.” He thought to the lovely dark green armour that lay packed in his tent; he doubted that Margaery would even be able to lift sections of it. It was too heavy for even Alyn to move it comfortably.

“Right,” Garlan said, rubbing at the red creases that the laces had left across his palms. “I think we’re done here.”

Margaery pursed her lips. “Just a little more,” she said, looking down at herself.

Loras frowned at those words and for a moment the two siblings looked like twins, their foreheads knitted together in identical displeasure. “You look fine,” he said.

“Yes but I want to look _perfect_ ,” she laughed. “It’s Renly’s name day and the occasion demands it.”

Renly could understand wanting to look perfect and he gestured for Garlan to continue. It was surely Margaery’s prerogative how tight her dress was.

Garlan shrugged. “As you wish, your grace,” he laughed. Obediently, he made to pull on Margaery’s laces a little more.

Loras scowled. “Fine,” he muttered, pulling back against Garlan very reluctantly. “But if she faints today, I’m not catching her.”

Margaery just smiled innocently at him and walked to the mirror, turning to admire herself. There wasn’t time for that though and Renly grabbed her hand impatiently. She wasn’t going to be faffing around any longer even if he had to put her on the horse himself.

 

* * *

 

 

The sun had already begun to dry out the wet ground and it was only tacky under the horses’ feet as they rode towards House Camberell’s very modest holdfast. Indeed, it was rather hard to believe that it was only yesterday that it had poured, in spite of how many times Ser Parmen told them that he’d stood guard whilst gripped by the constant fear that he'd get frostbite.

Ser Camberell met them in the village square and he seemed so proud to welcome them that Renly didn’t have the heart to tell him that they hadn’t been intending to stop on their way to Bitterbridge. Instead, he let the knight believe that they’d chosen his village specially as he walked their party through the crowds of smallfolk that had gathered. Renly had long learnt after all that a little flattery often went a long way and even mere knightly houses were always useful to have as allies.

The sept was the chosen venue; for whilst the rainbow colours had principally been chosen because Renly thought they would look magnificent, the official reasoning behind them was his desire to pay homage to the faith of the seven.

The sept was as modest as the village and yet Renly could barely contain his excitement as he waited for his guard to put on their new armour. He was more restless even than Margaery, who, in the very crowded building, could only have been very uncomfortable in her boned and lined dress. It seemed an age before they were ready and yet he had to grin very widely indeed when the septon finally came out to say that the ceremony was to begin.

“In honour of King Renly’s name day,” he stammered, clearly nervous as he raised his crystal, “might I present the Rainbow Guard.”

The guard would take their vows one by one, in the order that they had finished in the tournament that had chosen them, and it was Ser Emmon who strode out amongst them first. His armour did not disappoint and the yellow steel seemed like the sun itself as he knelt on the stone floor with his rainbow cloak fanned out behind him. He looked as proud as Renly felt, and in his hurry to wave to his father in the back row, he forgot half of the vows he’d been supposed to learn off by heart, repeating that he would protect his king like an excited child until the septon had the sense to prompt him.

Lord Bryce the Orange was next and whilst he was calmer, he swore to protect his king with a fervour that put Ser Emmon to shame. That was no surprise perhaps; Lord Bryce had been one of Renly’s bannermen since he’d been ten years old and as an orphan too, they’d always felt a certain affinity.

He was followed by Ser Robar in fiery red armour and he took his vows solemnly, his face turned up to the window and his gaze upon the sky. The Royces were an old family, and what with their mysterious runes, Renly had to wonder if he were making his vows to some strange ancient god that he'd never heard of. Indeed, the words were spoken so augustly that Ser Parmen's performance seemed almost jarring when he followed. Like Ser Emmon, he bounced on the spot, his purple armour jangling at the joints as he leant back and forwards on his toes.

Ser Guyard looked the most like his usual self when he came out in his vibrant green armour. As might be expected, he almost sang his vows and yet there was the same depth of feeling in his expression as there had been in Lord Bryce’s. Renly was unsurprised here too and he felt a certain nostalgia as he listened to Guyard recite his vows. He had served as Renly’s captain of the guard for years, since they’d left Storm’s End for King's Landing together all those years ago and Renly imagined now that the young knight from Crow's Nest would serve him until he died.

Ser Guyard of course had finished second in the tournament and Renly held his breath as he waited for Loras to come out. They had agreed on white armour eventually, like the Kingsguard of old, and Renly hoped that it would not disappoint. It had been the septon at Longtable who had given Loras the idea, when he’d explained that, peculiarly perhaps, white light seemed to contain the entire rainbow within it. He’d demonstrated with his septon’s crystal, which although rather small and humble, had bathed the wall in rainbow light just as well as the crystal that the High Septon wielded. Needless to say, it had been an idea that had appealed to both Loras’ ego and to his sense of taste.

And Renly had to admit that he’d been right as Loras walked out to join his comrades. The white seemed to shine like moonlight against the stone floor and the rainbow cloak seemed all the more vibrant for it. It almost seemed like he glittered, and as he approached, Renly felt a shiver of awe run down his spine. All of his Rainbow Guard were strong and handsome but they paled into significance now that Loras was before him.

He knelt on the stones though just as the others had done, his curly head bowed. It was a strange sight and Renly almost told him to get up. It seemed alien to him that Loras would kneel before anyone.

“Ser Loras,” the septon said solemnly, his young voice ringing out loudly. “Do you swear to protect your king?”

Loras raised his head. “I do,” he murmured softly, his eyes meeting Renly’s. “With my own life if need be.”

“And do you swear to obey his commands?”

“I do.”

“And do you swear to keep his secrets?”

Renly allowed himself a little smile there and yet Loras’ expression was completely serious as he stared back. And Renly knew without asking that the vows meant everything to him, that despite his heritage and noble birth, he was proud to be kneeling there on that floor.


	147. Chapter 147

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the huge delay. Have been incredibly busy at work- and maybe there's part of me that fears getting to the end of this...!
> 
> Sorry again!

Lord Caswell of Bitterbridge was a small man, so unassuming and so eager to please that Renly seriously considered asking him to swap his silks for an apron and run his household in King’s Landing. He gave Renly and Margaery his own personal rooms and when he bowed, he bowed so low that his nose and whiskers almost scraped the floor. So ineffectual and feeble was he in fact that Renly thought he should consider himself lucky they’d had near fifteen years of peace. Quite how he’d managed to cling on to his lands and titles previously was anybody’s guess, for Renly imagined that an enemy could be at the very walls and Lord Caswell would be naïve and amiable enough to invite them in for lunch.

Indeed, he threw five feasts for Renly’s host in as many days, each time apologising that it wasn’t as extravagant as his grace deserved. Whether that was true or not was certainly questionable. He brought the finest wine up from his cellars, and when that was all drunk, he sent for more from the surrounding Houses. Fools were brought in from near and far, and if Renly enthused over a particular dish at dinner, serving boys were sent rushing into the kitchens to tell the cooks to make more.

The sixth evening was no different. Again the servants had busied themselves all day picking fruit and plucking birds. It was to be a feast to remember once more and Renly was just making to leave for it when Alyn caught him by the shoulder, yanking on the fabric of his doublet to get his attention.

“Your grace,” he gasped breathlessly, his legs all in a twist.

There was something exasperated about his tone and Renly had to laugh despite the lack of care that Alyn had shown his clothes. “What?” he asked.

“Ser Loras and Ser Guyard are at each other’s throats, outside in the camp.”

Renly raised an eyebrow, amused. “Again?” he asked. It seemed every other day that he was pulling the two of them apart. He couldn’t find it in him to be surprised though. Ser Guyard had been Renly’s captain for over three years; it was inevitable that he felt a little usurped by Loras, who, at only seventeen, had the gall to be both younger and more talented than him.

Alyn just nodded apologetically. “Again,” he repeated.

“Come on then,” Renly sighed cheerfully, taking Alyn by the shoulder and steering him outside. “You can tell me all about it as we walk down there. I’m sure I’ll get very different versions of events from Loras and Ser Guyard after all.”

Alyn nodded. “Well,” he said, his voice still a little rasping. “Ser Guyard is supposed to be standing guard outside your tent this evening, during the feast I mean, and he doesn’t want to.”

“I see.” Renly wasn’t surprised. Ser Guyard was very noble when it came to protecting his king but it was understandable perhaps that he wasn’t quite so eager when it came to protecting his king’s clothes. Especially when there was a feast to be missed.

Renly soon located them. It wasn't hard. In fact, he reckoned he could have spotted Guyard and Loras a mile off, even if they weren’t standing outside the tallest and grandest tent in the entire camp. They were the only men about for miles. Everyone else was no doubt scrambling over themselves trying to get the best seats at the feast.

Both Loras and Guyard turned as soon as they saw him and then the air was a jumble of voices, both men trying to speak over one another.

Renly had to laugh. “One at a time,” he insisted, raising a hand to silence them. Risking the wrath of Loras, he turned to Guyard first.

“It’s not fair, your grace,” Guyard said, his voice almost a whine. “He always chooses me to be on duty during the feasts.”

“I do not,” Loras retorted, arms folded across his chest. “It was Bryce yesterday. And Robar the day before that. And then Bryce again, and then you and then-”

Renly rolled his eyes. “Yes, Loras, we get the point.”

“But it’s never you,” Guyard said. “Not once.”

Loras’ eyes narrowed dangerously. “And why should it be?”

“You’re the Lord Commander, not one of the Seven. And just because you’re his grace’s personal _pincushion_ , that shouldn’t mean-“

Renly felt his temper stir. “ _Enough_.”

Both men recoiled and Renly got the feeling that they’d been so caught up in their bickering that they’d forgotten he was there. Guyard immediately recovered though and had the decency to look sheepish. Loras on the other hand just turned his face away like a sulking child.

“Now both of you calm down,” Renly said, forcing a smile. “You may both go to the feast if you like. I shall ask Lord Caswell to supply one of his household guards to watch over my pavilion.”

“You’re too kind, your grace.” Ser Guyard bowed low, his face still an ashamed shade of pink.

Renly waved his words away. “Now go and dress,” he said. “I won’t have you being late.”

Nodding profusely, Guyard took his leave.

Steeling himself, Renly turned to Loras. “And you too,” he laughed, resisting the urge to reach out and wind a stray curl round his finger. “You can’t wear armour to a feast after all.”

Loras merely rolled his eyes, one eyebrow arched perfectly. “As you wish, _your grace_.” He spoke mockingly, bowing as Guyard had done but without any of the sincerity. His cloak whirling about him, he turned on his heel.

“I don’t think Ser Loras is best pleased,” Alyn murmured as they walked back up to the keep, Loras stalking a hundred paces in front of them.

Renly smiled, glancing at Loras’ back fondly. “No,” he agreed. “But he’ll get over it. He’s been called worse. And he’s certainly called Ser Guyard worse. That boy has a tongue on him like a Dornish sailor.”

Alyn made a face. “I bet he does,” he mumbled under his breath.

Renly raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Alyn flushed pink. “I mean, they bicker something terrible, don’t they?”

Renly nodded, pleased at the correction. “They always have,” he agreed with a small laugh. “But you know, when it comes down to it, Ser Loras has a lot of respect for Ser Guyard.”

“He does?” Alyn didn’t seem convinced.

Renly laughed. “Of course he does. Ser Guyard was a knight when Loras was just a boy; he was the one to beat, the talent to which everyone aspired. So yes, underneath all the bravado, Loras has a lot of respect for him.”

Again, Alyn seemed unmoved. “If you say so, my lord,” he said, staring down at the toe of his boot. “All I know is that each spends a lot of time mocking the other.”

That was true in spite of what Renly had insisted and he smiled. “Perhaps we’ll hold a melee then,” he mused. “To mark our going from Bitterbridge and to allow my guard to let off steam in a much more entertaining fashion.”

Alyn nodded. He always did when Renly had his fanciful ideas. He was a good squire like that.

“Would you enter?” Renly asked. Whilst Alyn was still a squire, he was certainly old enough to enter such things. Loras had been a similar age after all when he’d been knighted.

Alyn seemed startled though. “Me?” he stammered.

Renly had to laugh. Whilst Alyn had certainly got off to a bad foot with his squiring, he was led to believe that the boy was no worse than others his age nowadays. He showed no particular talent or flair of course, but under Loras and Guyard’s watchful eye he had become competent enough not to embarrass himself. “Well why not?” he asked. “It would be a pleasure for me to see how mine own squire fares.”

“Well I’m not very good,” Alyn pointed out.

“Lots of men aren’t,” Renly said. “And besides, success in a melee is often about being smart.”

“It is?”

“Of course it is,” Renly laughed. “If you’re clever about it, you’ll make alliances and take down men both stronger and better than you. Otherwise you’ll just stand behind Ser Guyard and go unnoticed. There’ll be so many men on the field that hiding will be easy.”

 

* * *

 

 

Renly wasn’t wrong. In the end, a grand total of one hundred and sixteen knights presented themselves for the melee that would mark their going from Bitterbridge. It was a number that nobody could have anticipated and Lord Caswell’s servants had to hurriedly move the stands back so that they would have more space.

“It’ll be a good day or so, this one,” Tarly said gruffly, as he took his seat.

Renly hoped so. He could barely contain his delight as he looked out over the men before him. Never a more colourful melee had been seen. Clearly word had got round that the king liked his colours, for the knights resembled a basket of fruit on a summer’s day. Horses had been adorned with painted saddles and bejewelled bridles; silk banners fanned out behind enamelled armour; and if Renly blurred his eyes, everything merged to became a patchwork blanket of colour.

It was all too exciting though to close his eyes for long. Most men had taken their positions now upon the field and those near the front saluted him, calling his and Margaery’s names in a desperate bid to be noticed. Scanning the crowd though, Renly tried to spot Loras. He’d have thought it would be easy, considering the rainbow cloak and all, and yet he couldn’t find him in the sea of horses and shields.

He’d just spotted a flash of rainbow near the back that could have potentially been Loras when his attention was caught.

“Your grace.” A knight was bent on the ground before him. His armour was bright blue and Renly recognised the steel before he recognised the person inside it.

“Lady Brienne,” he smiled, glad he’d caught himself in time before he’d used an inappropriate form of address. “How can I be of service?”

Her armour creaked as she pulled off her helm. “If it would please you,” she said slowly, speaking to the ground more than him, “might I take part in today’s melee?”

The words were very mumbled indeed and Renly frowned, confused. “Why shouldn’t you?” he asked. “You do not need my say so.” He had already given her leave to join him in battle after all.

“You said any men and I-” She faltered.

Renly had to laugh. He supposed there were two types of people in the world: those who didn’t dare do anything at all until they were explicitly told that they could and those who did anything they pleased until they were explicitly told not to. The Lady Brienne was the first type; Loras on the other hand was a particularly extreme version of the second.

“Perhaps I ought to have been clearer,” he said. “Any man _or_ woman.” He turned to Margaery, taking her delicate hand in his. “Do you not fancy it, my sweet?” he jested. “I’m sure we could find a suit of mail somewhere, and I dare say you’d put the men to shame.”

Margaery merely laughed her lovely laugh. “I shouldn’t wish to embarrass them,” she said, her eyes twinkling. “I shall trust the Lady Brienne to put them to shame on my behalf.”

Everyone laughed and even the Lady Brienne managed a rather shy smile, backing away with gratitude on her face.

“Is that wise?” Margaery asked though as soon as her back was turned. “Big or not, she’s still a lady. She might get hurt. And then you would have to send a most awkward raven to her father.”

Renly just laughed and glanced at the maid’s retreating back. It was broader and stronger than even the biggest of men. “I imagine she can take care of herself.”

“But what if she can’t?”

Renly grinned, rubbing his hands together. “Well, I suppose we’re about to find out.” He tried to keep his eyes on her as she walked into the arena but in spite of the bright blue armour, he still lost her in the crowd. Big as she was, she was still easily obscured by the horses. It was a shame, Renly thought, for she would be an interesting target to watch. He wouldn’t be surprised after all if several of the knights refused to engage with her, as hitting a lady was far from honourable, regardless of whether she wore skirts or amour.

The first gong sounded then, a warning to the knights that the melee would be beginning in a few moments. Movement rippled suddenly through the crowd at its noise, each man jostling for a better starting position. It was only then that Renly was able to spot Loras. As the favourite to win by a long way, a large ring had formed several yards around him, for no man wanted to be at close quarters when the second and final gong was sounded.

And perhaps they’d been right to fear him. The second gong sounded with some force and Loras had knocked those unlucky enough to be in his vicinity off their horses before its reverberations had finished. Indeed, the heralds could barely keep up. Several had been brought to shout the names of those who fell and yet it was utter chaos. Between Loras, Ser Guyard and the rest of Renly’s Rainbow guard, names were being shouted fourfold on top of each other, the words forming such a jumbled mash of syllables that Renly had no idea whether it was Tobias Camberwell or Callos Tyrell who had fallen.

It was Alyn who had spoken truly though when he said that he wouldn’t last very long. The younger knights and bolder squires had split into two camps: those that were brash and arrogant and those that were more ginger. Whilst the former sought out the mightiest opponents so that they would be sure to emerge the victor despite their tender years, the latter were left to their own devices in one corner of the field, clearly not seen as a threat by anyone. As the knights thinned out though and more and more limped off the field, it was inevitable that they would become the new targets of men that had run out of weaker opponents. It was Red Ronnet who made the first move towards them. He tore through the entire group with ease, knocking young boys to the ground and sending the rest scattering into the middle of the arena where, singled out from their peers, they were quickly dispatched.

Loras, meanwhile, made quick work of Ser Guyard early, sending him off the field with a concussion and a bloody nose. Renly supposed that to be sensible. Ser Guyard after all was only fighter present who could even begin to give Loras a run for his money. If another man succeeded in wounding him, or even tiring him, Ser Guyard would be too much of a threat if he were still in the fight. Though knowing Loras, the several heavy blows he’d dealt to Guyard’s armoured chest had possibly had nothing to do with seeing him as a threat and had perhaps had everything to do with a vindictive desire to deny Guyard second place.

Ser Parmen and Ser Emmon meanwhile clearly were of a mind with Loras too. They sprung on the first Rainbow Guard to cross their path, banding together to overpower Ser Robar easily. Both hailing from the far south, it made sense perhaps that they might form an alliance and yet Renly couldn’t help but think it something of a shame. As the Purple and the Yellow of his Rainbow Guard, they clashed most horribly.

Ser Robar was far from the last casualty of the day. The fight lasted well into the evening, until eventually even Renly had to concede that they should call it a day and start again on the morrow. The field was unrecognisable when the last man had limped from it. Dented shields were strewn across the ground and there wasn’t a blade of grass in sight. The entire field had been churned into cracked, dusty mud under the armoured boots of the men and the heavy hooves of the horses, and on one side the ground was stained a dull red from a particularly aggressive tackle that had broken Ser Jon Fossoway’s nose.

For once there was no feast that night, and Renly retired early to his chambers instead. Loras was already abed when he came in, and he was clearly more exhausted than he’d let on as he’d taken down his final opponents of the day. He hadn’t bothered readying himself for bed and had merely stripped down to his smallclothes, his hair still plastered to his forehead in a knotted mess of curls and the mingled scent of leather and sweat heavy around him.

It was oddly arousing and Renly ran a hand up his back hopefully.

“Not now, Renly,” Loras yawned though, his head falling against Renly’s shoulder like a child’s would against his mother. Shutting his eyes, he was asleep instantly.

 

* * *

 

 

The morning dawned bright and hot. There were only twenty five men left, and to everybody’s immense surprise, one woman. Renly hadn’t noticed yesterday that she hadn’t fallen but he had to smile to himself when he saw her ride back out onto the field on a black destrier that was almost as big among horses as she was among men. She had her head held high and if she felt out of place for coming so far, it did not show in her demeanour.

Loras had been up and out before Renly had woken that morning and so Renly smiled when he caught sight of him on the field. He had chosen a new horse that Renly didn’t recognise today- not his grey mare from yesterday and nor the sand steed of Willas’ that he often favoured. Renly supposed the choice meant sense; the mare would be tired and while the sand steed was built for speed, the white stallion that he’d chosen today was broader and sturdier.

The men barely waited for the gong. As soon as it was sounded, the clangour of blades on steel rang out shrilly. The men had had the night to reflect on strategy and it became instantly clear that several alliances had been forged off the field. Ser Tanton had clearly been inducted into Parmen and Emmon’s little group and together they corned Lord Bryce, shredding his rainbow cloak into a thousand pieces with a mace that Ser Emmon hurled wildly about his head. The yellow warrior’s happiness was short-lived, however, for barely had Lord Bryce been carried off the field when Ser Parmen turned cloak upon him with a savage laugh, throwing their earlier allegiance to the wind as Ser Tanton duly fled to another area of the field.

The match between the purple and yellow of his guard was a stalemate and Renly was a little disappointed when both Ser Parmen and Ser Emmon were carried off the field, each suffering from exhaustion. They had truly been a joy to watch and Renly cast about the field for another good fight.

He was not left disappointed. In the far corner, Red Ronnet was on the defensive. This would have been lovely enough by itself but it was the matter of his opponent which really made Renly smile. The Maid of Tarth had set herself upon him like a hound sets itself upon a fox. Had Renly not known she was a woman, she could have been the Warrior himself as she raised her morning star above her armoured head.

It caught Red Ronnet full in the face and Renly had to stop himself grinning as he fell from his horse and landed in the dirt with a thud. Those who knew him well knew that he had little patience for the Red Griffin and he found a satisfying irony in seeing the ugly maid that Ronnet had spurned strike him down. He couldn’t bite the laugh down when he saw how dazed the blow had left the young knight. Clearly dizzy, he seemed to have lost the use of his legs and when he tried to stand back up he merely crumpled back down to the ground in a heap. It was on his hands and knees that he made his way out of the arena.

It was good viewing and yet Renly had to abandon watching Ronnet’s crawl of defeat when shouts of Loras’ name demanded his attention. Whipping his head round, he caught sight of Loras just in time to see him take down Ser Igon with a well-placed jab from his long-axe. The stern faced knight had been attempting to unhorse him with the help of Ser Tanton, and Renly watched, amused, as the helmless Ser Tanton clearly realised that it was his turn next. Unashamed, he turned his mare about, avoiding Loras’ blow just in time and racing to the other end of the field. He soon found common cause with Ser Gladden of all people, no doubt because they both shared a love of drink, and together they chose a new target, the only target left now on the field: the maid in blue.

It was an unwise target though. Even together, they were no match for the maiden who was on the warpath. As they closed to either side, she reined hard, smashing Ser Gladden full in the face with her splintered shield while her black destrier lashed out with a steel shot hoof at the other. In a blink Ser Gladden was unhorsed and Ser Tanton reeling.

You could almost see the Maid of Tarth regather her wits as both men were helped off the field and, wearily, she let her broken shield drop to the ground. It was perhaps a foolish move though. Loras was on her before she’d even straightened up in the saddle and even a broken shield would have been better than no shield at all.

They were beautiful to watch. The white horse and the black one wheeled like lovers at a harvest dance, the riders throwing steel in place of kisses. The Lady Brienne was getting the worst of it. Shieldless, she was being pummelled like a straw man in a training yard, shouts of Highgarden accompanying each blow. She gave as good as she got, but each time she swung, the green shield with its three roses would block the morning star’s path. Renly sorely wished that she would yield. As tough as she’d evidently proved herself, there was still something inside him that baulked at the idea of seeing a woman hurt. Blunt as the weapons were, there was still a lot of force behind Loras’ blows.

Indeed, Renly had to wince as Loras’ long-axe caught her gauntlet hard. The plate was thinner there, to allow the wearer more flexibility, and there was a screaming crunch of steel as her amour buckled and the morning star she’d been wielding was knocked from her grasp. Turning her head, Brienne clearly realised at the same time that the crowd did that it was too far for her to have any hope of getting it back and Renly winced again as Loras raised his axe for the final blow, listening intently for her to yield.

No sound though escaped the Lady Brienne’s lips though and Margaery shifted next to Renly in agitation. “She doesn’t know when to give up,” she muttered. For once there was no sweetness to her voice, only a hard determination that spoke of her love for Loras.

Loras had clearly been expecting her to yield too and he hesitated for a split second, the long-axe poised and waiting. It was all the opportunity that the maid needed. She charged into it and the two stallions slammed together, Loras’ axe screaming against the blue steel. It wasn’t quite enough to unhorse her and in a mighty struggle, she wrenched the axe from Loras’ hand. They were grappling mount to mount now and Renly watched on in astonishment. An instant later they were falling. As their horses pulled apart, they crashed to the ground with bone jarring force.  
It was Loras who took the brunt of the impact, and before Renly had time to comprehend what he was seeing, the Lady Brienne had pulled a dirk from her side and flicked Loras’ visor up. Renly didn’t hear the word spoken but the heralds clearly did.

“He yields,” they roared.

Renly had to blink. Never before had he heard that word on Loras’ lips. Nor had he ever seen Loras fail to get up. For indeed, the Lady Brienne had already risen to her feet, albeit unsteadily, and there Loras was, splayed out in the dirt still like a deer that had been brought down with a crossbow.

It was little Tommas Fossoway and Alyn who got him up, each taking an arm and yanking him to his feet. They soon got his helm off and even from a distance, Renly could see that he looked a mess. He’d clearly split his lip and blood was smeared all down his chin. He was almost unrecognisable and the sight of him so dishevelled in public almost made Renly smile. Usually it was only him who got to see Loras at his worst.

This was not the moment to think of Loras though and Renly gestured to Brienne, smiling at the novelty of it all. “Approach,” he told her.

Brienne duly limped forward, putting one armoured foot in front of the other with obvious difficulty. She was clearly as battered as her armour and her gait betrayed every ache and pain within.

“Tarth!” the crowd shouted as she approached. “A beauty!” Their tone was mocking.

“Your grace,” she said. Bending, she knelt in the dirt.

Renly looked her up and down. How she was still in one piece was a miracle. “You are all your lord father claimed you were,” he laughed. “I’ve seen Ser Loras unhorsed once or twice… but never quite in that fashion.”

“That were no proper unhorsing,” complained a drunken archer nearby. “A vile trick, pulling the lad down.”

Renly ignored him and instead turned back to the maid on the ground. “Well,” he said. “Here we have it. The Lady Brienne, the victor of the great melee at Bitterbridge and the last mounted of one hundred and sixteen knights. As champion, you may ask of me any boon that you desire. If it lies in my power, it is yours.”

The maid hesitated before answering, as if the question embarrassed her a little, and Renly had to be glad that he was already wed. Otherwise he feared that might have been the boon she’d request. Somehow, he imagined that she would have gladly swapped her mail for a wedding gown had he been the prize to be won.

“Your grace,” Lady Brienne answered eventually. “I ask the honour of a place among your rainbow guard. I would be one of your seven, and pledge my life to yours, to go where you go, ride at your side and keep you safe from all hurt and harm.”

Renly felt the eyes of his entire court on him and hesitated for just a moment. “Done,” he said. “Rise and remove your helm.”

More than a little gingerly, she obeyed. With her bare face upturned to his, it was as clear as day that her affections for him had not wavered. Renly was just glad that Loras was too busy having his lip cleaned up to have a clear view of her. No doubt he would have found the expression on her face nauseating, especially so after having just lost to her.

Rising too, Renly stepped down from the stands and onto the ground. Cutting away her torn cloak, he fastened a rainbow one that Alyn handed him in its place.

Brienne looked rather like she’d just been named queen. “My life for yours, your grace,” she beamed. “From this day on I am your shield. I swear it by the old gods and the new.”

She spoke a little clumsily and Renly was rather glad that she hadn’t been present for the real ceremony. The other six were undeniably comely and she would have spoiled the display rather a little. Having a woman in his kingsguard would certainly get tongues wagging though. It would go down in the history as a first and that was never a bad thing.

“Your grace,” A man Renly only recognised vaguely by sight approached, stepping in front of the Lady Brienne rather rudely. “I beg your leave.” He went to one knee. “I have the honour to bring you the Lady Catelyn Stark, sent as envoy by her son Robb, Lord of Winterfell.”

“Lord of Winterfell and King in the North, Ser,” a woman with long auburn hair corrected him.

Renly cocked his head, biting back a grin. It was all he could do not to turn to Tarly and gloat. He’d insisted all along that Robb Stark would bend before he did and send envoys. This was an unusual envoy though and Renly examined the woman before him a little curiously. He was surprised at her appearance. They’d never met before and she was much younger and prettier than he would have expected for a woman who’d been wed to the icy Ned Stark for the best part of fifteen years. He was surprised that the poor girl hadn’t been bored to death when she’d been sent so far north. It was well known after all that the northern lords were too frozen to smile.

“Lady Catelyn? We are most pleased.” He turned. “Margaery my sweet, this is the Lady Catelyn Stark of Winterfell.”

Margaery inclined her head gracefully; you would have never known she’d just watched her brother felled by a girl. “You are most welcome here, Lady Stark. I am sorry for your loss.”

“You are kind.”

Renly retook his seat. “My lady, I swear to you. I will see that the Lannisters answer for your husband’s murder. When I take King’s Landing, I’ll send you Joffrey’s head.”

This was met with a large cheer from Renly’s court and yet the Lady Catelyn only allowed herself a polite smile. “It will be enough to know that justice has been done, my lord.”

“Your grace,” Lady Brienne corrected, sharply. “And you should kneel when you approach the king.”

But Lady Catelyn did not bend. “The distance between a lord and a grace one is a small one, my lady,” she said. “Lord Renly wears a crown, as does my son. If you wish, we may stand here in the mud and debate what honours and titles are rightly due to each, but it strikes me that we have more pressing matters to consider.”

Tarly and Rowan bristled but Renly had to laugh. With no amusements to entertain them, women clearly grew fierce as direwolves in the North.

“Well said, my lady. There will be time enough for graces when these wars are done. Tell me, when does your son mean to march against Harrenhall?”

“I do not sit on my son’s war councils, my lord.”

Renly shrugged. It was clearly a lie; he refused to believe after all that a fourteen year old boy king was being allowed to lead his men into war without his mother examining his every move. There was no point disputing it though and so he grinned at her. “So long as he leaves a few Lannisters for me, I’ll not complain. What has he done with the Kingslayer?”

The Lady Catelyn clearly didn’t like this topic either but she did deign to answer. “Jaime Lannister is held prisoner at Riverrun,” she admitted.

“Still alive?” Lord Mathis seem dismayed.

Renly just smiled. He wasn’t sure what he would have done if he had been in the Stark boy’s place. He might have been tempted to stick his smug head on a pike just for the joy of it though or a least make him juggle in court for his amusement like a fool. “It would seem the direwolf is gentler than the lion,” he said.

“Gentler than the Lannisters,” murmured Lady Oakheart, with a bitter smile, “is drier than the sea.”

“I call it weak,” Tarly grumbled. “No disrespect to you, Lady Stark, but it would have been more seemly had Lord Robb come to pay homage to the king himself, rather than hiding behind his mother’s skirts.”

“King Robb is warring, my lord,” Catelyn told him sternly. “Not playing at tourney.”

That was clearly a jibe aimed at him and Renly grinned. “Go softly, Lord Randyll,” he laughed, “I fear you’re overmatched.” He beckoned Alyn forward. “Find a place for the lady’s companions, and see they have every comfort. Lady Catelyn shall have my own pavilion. Since Lord Caswell has been so kind to give me use of his castle, I have no need of it. My lady, when you are rested, I would be honoured if you would share our meat and mead at the feast Lord Caswell is giving us tonight. A farewell feast. I fear his lordship is eager to see the heels of my hungry horde.”

“Not true, your grace,” protested Lord Caswell from the seat on Renly’s left hand side. “What is mine is yours.”

Renly had to smile, for the words made him reminisce. “You know, whenever someone said that to my brother Robert, he took them at their word. You have daughters, do you not?”

“Yes, your grace. Two.”

“Then thank the gods that I am not Robert. My sweet wife is all the woman I desire.” He held his hand out for Margaery. “We’ll talk again when you’ve had a chance to refresh yourself, Lady Catelyn.”

Lady Catelyn did not curtsey, and for a long moment Renly thought her about to insist that they talk now. Indeed, it was with an icy patience that she finally turned and followed Alyn.


	148. Chapter 148

“How bad is it?” Alyn asked gravely as Renly exited the tent.

Renly shrugged lightly, biting back a small smile. “He’ll be as right as rain in a few days,” he told him. “As for his pride on the other hand… Well let’s just say that the maesters don’t think it looks good.”

There was an angry growl from inside. “I heard that.”

Renly grinned. “Did you?” he inquired pleasantly. He lifted up the flap of the tent. “My squire has come to see how you are, Ser Loras. May he come in?”

Loras just mumbled something rude under his breath and so Renly just shrugged and beckoned Alyn inside.

Loras was still sat gingerly on the chair where Renly had left him, a bowl of red-tinged water at his feet. A maester was at his side, winding a soft strip of linen around his temple to try and bind a wound at his hairline. He wasn’t having much luck though and Renly watched in amusement as he lifted Loras’ curls first this way and then that way in his attempt to get the bandage to lie flat.

“My lord,” he pleaded in a tone that hid most of his exasperation rather well. “It really would be easier if we cut away some of the hair on this s-”

“No.” Loras’ command was a harsh bark. It left no room for argument.

Selfishly, Renly was a little relieved. He liked Loras’ curls as they were. Cut very short, his hair was much less fun to play with. It merely stood up like a horse-hair brush instead of coiling round his fingers like a tight spring. He could see why the maester had suggested it though. Even when the maester tied off the linen and stepped back to inspect his handiwork, the bandage was bumpy and a little slack. He seemed in fact on the verge of untying it to start again and then he made the mistake of glancing down at his patient’s face. One look at Loras’ sour expression was clearly enough to convince him to leave the bandage in place and get out while he could.

“Oh cheer up, Loras,” Renly laughed when the maester had exited the tent.

Loras just scowled.

“Second place is mighty impressive,” Alyn chimed in. “Really it is.”

Loras had nothing to say to that; he just seethed silently at the floor. Renly knew exactly what he was thinking though. Second place was all good and well; but not when it was a woman who had denied you first.

“And that trick of Lady Brienne’s was hardly chivalrous,” Alyn added. “It was more suitable to a tavern brawl than a king’s melee.”

Loras just narrowed his eyes at him; no doubt he didn’t want to be reminded.

Renly just rolled his eyes in amusement. “Well Alyn,” he said. “Ser Loras seems to have forgotten his manners today but I’m sure he’s very grateful for your attempts to cheer him up.” He waved him from his side. “If you could lay out my clothes for the farewell feast? The black and gold that we discussed yesterday.”

Alyn nodded and with one last glance at Loras, duly retreated from the tent.

“Come on then,” Renly sighed when they were alone. “Let’s take a proper look at you.”

Loras scowled again but didn’t protest. Wincing in pain, he stood from his chair and let Renly lift his tunic to examine his injuries. The damage was very much as Renly had expected. There was bruising all down his left side, no doubt a souvenir of his and Brienne’s rather ungainly fall from their horses. It was mottled black and blue against his pale skin and Renly let out a low whistle as he saw just how swollen the flesh around his ribs was. There was no doubt about it; the Lady Brienne was going to make one hell of guard based on brute strength alone. He did not, however, voice that thought.

“Does it hurt?” he asked.

Loras shrugged, which Renly took as a definite yes. Gingerly, he ran a hand over the worst of the bruising. He had an odd sense of having done this before and was reminded sharply of a time when Loras had been a boy. The bruising had been inflicted by his own hand then and Renly remembered the shame he’d felt.

Dropping to his knees, he pressed a kiss gently to Loras’ side. He had to smile when he felt Loras shiver underneath him. That smile widened to a grin when Loras lowered himself down beside him. Clearly he wasn’t that hurt then and Renly tilted his head back to kiss him, carefully avoiding the rather fragile bandaging around his head.

“I’m not broken, Renly,” he said stiffly, catching Renly’s bottom lip between his own. It wasn’t quite a telling off but Renly obeyed regardless, cupping the back of his head a little more firmly. He felt Loras respond in turn, and so Renly dismissed his caution entirely, kissing him with an open mouth and a hand on his back to push him closer. There was so much that he wanted to say to him. He wanted to tell him that he was proud of him; that it didn’t matter to him if a woman had humiliated him in front of the entire nobility of the Reach; and that the rainbow cloak he’d given her didn’t have even half of the significance that the one he’d placed around his shoulders did. These were all words though that Loras would find insulting and so Renly poured the emotion instead into his kisses. He kissed him until his knees ached and until the bandage around Loras’ temple had come undone in his hands.

It was only when there was a rustling outside the tent that he pulled back. “Yes?” he called reluctantly. He did not invite the messenger inside the tent.

A guard answered. “Your Grace,” he called, “the feast will begin shortly.”

Renly acknowledged receipt of the message and then simply turned back to Loras’ mouth. Lord Caswell’s feast would not begin shortly. It would begin when he arrived.

 

* * *

 

 

The feast was a crowded one. Lord Caswell’s great hall was not particularly great and with the influx of Lady Catelyn’s retinue, space was very much at a premium. Tables and benches had been squeezed into every nook and cranny whilst knights were sat almost on top of each other, bundled together like buns on a plate.

Renly was thankful to be able to take his seat on the much less crowded dais and he smiled as he settled himself between Loras and Margaery. Having left both Mace Tyrell and Garlan behind with a portion of their soldiers several weeks ago now, he was able to have Loras at his right hand side without raising any eyebrows. Aside from making feasts a lot more enjoyable, Renly rather enjoyed the symmetry that he and Margaery provided; with their identical curls and molten gold eyes, they framed him rather nicely.

The food was plentiful and the drink even more so. As such, it did not take long for the atmosphere in the hall to become more than a little merry. Soon men were struggling to sit upright and the serving girls were batting away lecherous hands as they tried to place the platters of food on the table. One amongst them had clearly not moved fast enough though and had been bundled into Lord Varner’s lap. She sat there with her plate of meat pies still in her hands, giggling awkwardly as the lord’s hand snaked inside her bodice to fondle her breasts. No doubt the lord would find himself in trouble with his wife when he returned home.

Lord Varner, however, was not the only one playing with fire. Lord Bryce had goaded Ser Robar into juggling a brace of daggers, very sharp ones at that. Renly watched him with baited breath, crying in horror along with everyone else when Robar dropped a blade and then sighing with shared relief as it landed inches away from his foot. It was an exciting moment, and one that was apparently too exciting for Ser Guyard to resist. No sooner had the brace of daggers been put away had he ordered a new harp brought into the hall. Drunkenly dancing his fingers across his strings, he had composed a ballad in Ser Robar’s honour, before moving on to an even poorer song about tying Lannister lions up in knots, only part of which rhymed.

Renly was trying to drown him out with merry conversation when Margaery caught his sleeve. “Oh look, Renly,” she laughed. “Look.”

Renly duly looked where she was pointing. Ser Tanton stood on the table, one foot in a gravy boat. He was gesticulating quite wildly and didn’t seem to have noticed the thick sauce sloshing up his leg. Whatever he was talking about had got him rather incensed and he all but frothed at the mouth as those sat around him egged him on.

Renly could only just about make out his words and he turned to those next to him. “Who is he swearing to slay in single combat?” he asked, cupping a hand to his ear.

It was Loras who answered. “The Hound,” he said dryly.

Renly snorted. He was more likely to see Loras would take a wife than see Ser Tanton slay Sandor Clegane in single combat. And neither was likely.

Ser Tanton continued though in that vein until one of Lord Caswell’s fools stole his limelight. Glittering from head to toe in gilded tin and with a cloth lion’s head upon his shoulders, the fool had bounded onto the dais in chase of a dwarf. Round and round the top table they ran, the lion waving a sheep’s bladder at the dwarf every time he got close. Occasionally he would catch up and there would be a soft wet sound as the dwarf was whacked round the face with it.

Renly watched in bemusement. He couldn’t for the life of him work out what was going on. There was no strife between Jaime Lannister and the Imp as far as he could remember. He wondered if there was news from the capital that he hadn’t yet heard.

“Pray tell,” he asked when the fool next passed near enough to hear his words. “Why are you chasing your brother?”

The fool lolled to a halt, his fat belly wobbling like a jelly on a plate. “I’m the kinslayer, Your Grace.”

Renly’s face split into a disbelieving smile. “It’s the _King_ slayer, fool of a fool.”

There was a roar of laughter from his subjects and Renly grinned. Almost immediately Guyard struck up on his harp again, launching into a tale of how the king had risen from his stool, so that he could correct the golden fool.

Knowing that this one would have to be improvised on the spot and would thus be one of the poorer songs of the evening, Renly stood abruptly from his chair. “Lady Catelyn,” he called, finding her solemn face easily in the sea of merriment. “I feel the need of some air. Will you walk with me?”

She stood immediately; no doubt she had been waiting patiently all evening for an audience with him. “I should be honoured.”

Brienne rose too, her new rainbow cloak hanging from her shoulders like a banner. “Your Grace,” she said, “give me but a moment to don my mail. You should not be without protection.”

Renly felt rather than saw Loras bristle beside him and he waved her back down to her seat with a smile. “If I am not safe in the heart of Lord Caswell’s castle, with my own host around me, one sword will make no matter- not even _your_ sword, Brienne. Sit and eat. If I have need of you, I’ll send for you.”

Renly had meant the words kindly and yet he saw her face fall all the same. “As you will, Your Grace.” She sank back into her seat rather dejectedly. Truly the girl would have preferred to follow him silently through the halls than sit and enjoy the feast. It beggared belief really.

It would look foolish to go back on his words though and so Renly merely took Lady Catelyn’s arm to lead her from the hall.

“This way, my lady.” Renly guided her through a door onto the steps that led up to the roof. Bitterbridge was not a large holdfast but even its mediocre height would suffice for what he wanted to show her. He turned to her as they climbed. “Perchance is Ser Barristan Selmy with your son at Riverrun?”

“No,” she answered, her comely face clearly puzzled. “Is he no longer with Joffrey? He was the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard.”

Renly wanted to roll his eyes; as if he hadn’t known that Barristan Selmy was the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard… He settled for shaking his head politely. “The Lannisters told him he was too old and gave his cloak to the Hound,” he explained. “I’m told he left King’s Landing vowing to take up service with the true king. The cloak Brienne claimed today was the one I was keeping for Selmy, in hopes that he might offer me his sword. When he did not turn up at Highgarden, I thought perhaps he had gone to Riverrun instead.”

“We have not seen him.”

There was no lie in her eyes and Renly let out a soft sigh. “He was old, yes, but a good man still. I hope he has not come to harm. The Lannisters are great fools.” He turned his face to Catelyn’s. “On the night of Robert’s death, I offered your husband a hundred swords against them and urged him to take Joffrey in his power. Had he listened, he would be regent today and there would have been no need for me to claim the throne.”

“Ned refused you.” It was not a question.

“He had sworn to protect Robert’s children,” Renly told her by way of explanation. “I lacked the strength to act alone, so when Lord Eddard turned me away, I had no choice but to flee. Had I stayed, I knew the queen would see to it that I did not long outlive my brother.”

Bitterness passed across her face at those words and Renly wondered what she blamed him for. It was not his fault after all that her husband had been too rigid in his honour to take his advice.

“I liked your husband well enough, my lady,” he added, trying to placate her. “He was a loyal friend to Robert, I know… But he would not listen and he would not bend.”

She was silent to that and Renly wondered what she was thinking. He knew that even if she agreed with him, she would never voice it. She was too loyal to her husband for that and her opinion of his mistakes would no doubt go with her to the grave.

They’d reached the top of the tower now and Renly pushed open a door and led her out onto the roof. “Here,” he said. “I wish to show you something.”

The roof gave them a view of the surrounding countryside. In every direction for miles small fires flickered. Renly heard Lady Catelyn’s small intake of breath as she took in their abundance.

“Count them if you like, my lady,” he said quietly. “You will still be counting when dawn breaks in the east. How many fires burn around Riverrun tonight, I wonder?”

Lady Catelyn said nothing.

“I’m told your son crossed the Neck with twenty thousand swords at his back. Now that the lords of the Trident are with him, perhaps he commands forty thousand.” Renly paused, searching her face again for the information she seemed determined to withhold. “I have twice that number here, and this is only part of my strength. Mace Tyrell remains at Highgarden with another ten thousand. I have a strong garrison holding Storm’s End, and soon the Dornishmen will join me with all their power. And never forget my brother Stannis, who holds Dragonstone and commands the lords of the narrow sea.”

That was an optimistic thought indeed and perhaps she knew it too, for she turned to him rather sharply. “It would seem that you are the one who has forgotten Stannis.”

Renly laughed at her tone. “His claim, you mean? Let us be blunt, my lady. Stannis would make an appalling king. Nor is he like to become one. Men respect Stannis, even fear him, but precious few have ever loved him.” Absent-mindedly, Renly wondered where he fitted into all that. He had respected his brother as much as he’d respected any grown man when he’d been a child. Perhaps he feared him still. But love… Renly wasn’t sure whether he’d ever loved him.

Catelyn’s voice brought him out of his reverie. “He is still your elder brother,” she was telling him, as if scolding a child. “If either of you can be said to have a right to the Iron Throne, it must be Lord Stannis.”

Renly shrugged and wondered if he’d wasted his time bringing Lady Catelyn up to the roof. “Tell me,” he said, “what right did my brother Robert ever have to the Iron Throne? Oh there was talk of the blood ties between Baratheon and Targaryen, of weddings a hundred years past, of second sons and elder daughters. No one but the maesters care about any of it. Robert won the throne with his warhammer.” He swept a hand across the campfires that burned from horizon to horizon. “Well there is my claim, as good as Robert’s ever was. If your son supports me as his father supported Robert, he’ll not find me ungenerous. I will gladly confirm him in all his lands, titles and honours. He can rule in Winterfell as he pleases. He can even go on calling himself King in the North if he likes, so long as he bends the knee and does me homage as his overlord. _King_ is only a word, but fealty, loyalty, service… those I must have.”

“And if he will not give them to you, my lord?”

Renly shrugged again; he hadn’t thought that far. Only a fool opposed a force of a hundred thousand. “I mean to be King, my lady, and not of a broken kingdom. I cannot say it plainer than that. Three hundred years ago, a Stark king knelt to Aegon the dragon, when he saw he could not hope to prevail. That was wisdom. Your son must be wise as well. Once he joins me, this war is as good as done. We-” A shout in the distance echoed across the courtyard and Renly broke off, distracted. “What’s that now?”

A rattle of chains heralded the rising of the portcullis. In the yard below, a rider in a winged helm was urging his well-lathered horse under the spikes. “Summon the King!” he called. His voice was high and urgent.

Frowning, Renly lifted himself up into one of the crenels. “I’m here, ser.”

“Your Grace,” The rider brought his mount closer. “I came as swiftly as I could. From Storm’s End. We are besieged, Your Grace. Ser Cortnay defies them, but…”

Renly stared down at him. “But… That’s not possible. I would have been told if Lord Tywin had left Harrenhall.”

The man caught his breath quickly. “These are no Lannisters, my liege. It’s Lord Stannis at your gates. _King_ Stannis, he calls himself now.”

Renly almost swore aloud.


End file.
